Hand in unlovable hand
by clotgirl
Summary: Kyle Broflovski and Eric Cartman haven't seen or spoken to each other in ten years. Things have changed: Kyle is married to Rebecca, a woman he can't stand and with whom he's had two children. Eric is now a multi-billionaire filled with regret, but he has a project that he wants to accomplish with the help of his irreplaceable personal assistant, Flavia. KYMAN!
1. Ten years later: Kyle

Kyle Broflovski's Study was the only place where he felt he could be himself. In there, he was finally at peace and alone with his own thoughts: No wife to nag him, no kids to bother him, and no employees to annoy him unceasingly. No one other than himself was allowed to enter it unannounced or uninvited; the only exception to this rule was on Thursday mornings, when his wife, Rebecca, would come in and clean it thoroughly. That small trespass didn't bother him much since he was at the office most Thursday mornings anyway, but the odd times he was home, he'd make sure to leave the place upside down and as filthy as possible. He would sit on his burgundy velvet armchair, a glass of scotch in hand, and take pleasure in watching his wife scrub and disinfect the place as she cursed and he would purposely ignore every single attempt she'd make at any form of communication with him. Kyle and Rebecca had been married ten years, but their love had died before they even got to pronounce their vows. The two of them first met when Kyle was in grade three and he, Rebecca and her brother Mark were finalists in the South Park spelling bee. Back then, he developed some sort of crush on her and tried to woo her to make her his girlfriend, but after their first kiss, Rebecca became a total slut. Mark and Rebecca went back to being homeschooled by their overbearing parents and it wasn't until his last year at Harvard that he was reunited with her once more. Rebecca's hormones had toned down and Kyle gave her another shot. A couple of months later, the two of them tied the knot in a simple, yet elegant ceremony. Next thing he knew, Kyle became an alcoholic: it was the only way he could bare to look at his wife. Despite their loveless marriage, the doomed couple had two adorable children: Ayala and little Adam.

Ayala was now eight years of age and she was the spitting image of her father: Red curls, fair skin, emerald green eyes, all made complete by her father's stereotypical Jewish nose. She had a sharp, critical mind and a great sense of morality that made her father especially proud. She was curious about the world and was eager to learn how the world worked, and while Kyle was happy to answer her questions to the best of his knowledge while he was sober, he'd start spewing nonsense at her when he was inebriated and would leave the poor child absolutely confused. Adam was three years old and he looked nothing like Kyle or Rebecca: he had raven hair, icy blue eyes, rosy skin and a teeny, tiny little button nose unlike anyone's in Kyle's or Rebecca's family. Unlike his sister, Adam was not only loud and obnoxious, but he was often up to no good. Kyle had no recollection of Adam's conception; the last time he had remembered being intimate with his wife was years before his birth, but Rebecca always claimed that Kyle was just too drunk to remember it. Kyle had noticed that the older the toddler got, the more erratic his behaviour was. He was moody and selfish; that child was content only when he had his mother's undivided attention. Rebecca was more than willing to fulfill her son's needs, often at her daughter's expense. As a matter a fact, Rebecca often overlooked her son's erratic behaviour, but severely reprimanded Ayala's smallest faults and often times didn't even bother to explain why she was getting punished in the first place. The Broflovski household was not a healthy environment, but to an outsider, it seemed like the family was united and thriving: Kyle was amongst the richest people in South Park making it so Rebecca didn't need to work, they lived in a pretty house, they drove luxury cars and whenever they were seen in public, whether it was at a restaurant or a charity event, they always seemed blissful. But then again, it is said that appearances are often deceiving and the Broflovskis had mastered the art of deception.

* * *

Kyle was sitting on his velvet armchair, his fourth scotch glass in hand. His eyes were focused unto the flames that danced behind the mesh screen curtain of the study's green marble fireplace. Outside, the winter wind blew and howled, making the house creak. 'A storm is coming _,'_ he thought, 'there's no doubt about it _.'_ He congratulated himself for having such a lucid thought despite the familiar light-headedness and dizziness he was experiencing. He knew he was getting close to his nightly goal, but he hadn't quite reached it yet. He was not satisfied until he was intoxicated enough to blackout, and he was still far from reaching that point. Fire had always fascinated him; he loved getting hypnotized by the flames for it was the only way his mind could truly disconnect from the fiasco that was his life. On the mahogany coffee table to his left was a small pile of envelopes consisting of the mail he had received that day and that his wife had handed to him earlier: mostly bills that needed to be paid, some postcards from various acquaintances that happened to be on vacation, a few thank you notes from charities he had donated to and a shimmery envelope from Hawaii containing an invitation.

 _Dear Kyle and Rebecca Broflovski_

 _We're in love_

 _And we want the world to know it._

 _We would be honoured to have you join us_

 _As we take the plunge and become One_

 _May 5_ _th_ _at the Coco Palms Resort_

 _Ceremony starts at 5 PM_

 _Refreshments and Reception to follow at 7 PM_

 _We hope to see you there_

 _Leopold "Butters" Stotch_

 _Kenny McCormick_

Without taking his eyes off the flames, Kyle grimaced as he swallowed whatever little liquid that was left in his glass. Last time he had seen Kenny and Butters was about seven years ago at his ten year high school reunion, and the invitation took him a little off guard. He was friends with them on facebook and therefore knew about their relationship, but they had been out of touch for so long that he was still fazed by the whole ordeal. He started to wonder which other old friends would get invited. He was ready to bet that Stan and Bebe would be amongst the guests, along with Tweek and Craig and most likely Wendy and Token too. He was fairly certain that although Cartman was certainly going to be invited to the event, he would be a no-show. Last time he saw the fat ass in person was a week after he graduated from Harvard. The four childhood friends had kept in touch and saw each other at least once every second month until they were about twenty-five years old. Kyle remembered that the last time he saw Cartman was the day he announced to his friends that he was going to marry Rebecca. He remembers his friends, including the fat ass, congratulating him. They all seemed pretty excited for him: Kenny was the one who planned his bachelor's party, Stan was his best man, and Cartman was absent from his life ever since. Cartman was nowhere to be found at his wedding and Adam's Brit milah, and even managed to be absent from the ten years reunion for the high school. Kyle knew that Cartman was now a big shot, multibillionaire businessman that was coveted by thousands of models and starlets, but he never understood how Cartman could bail from his hometown the way he did, without any sign of warning. He had made the Forbes cover a couple of times and was a favorite of the paparazzi, always getting photographed leaving fancy restaurants or high end charities with a different bimbo by his side on a regular basis. Kyle sighed and got up: he needed a refill. The redhead grabbed his bottle of scotch, poured himself another glass of the burning liquid and immediately swallowed the entire content of his glass before pouring himself yet another one. Before he sat back down with his freshly poured drink, he placed the Laphroaig bottle back on his desk, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out two albums: his high school yearbook and a photo album containing pictures that were taken between senior year and the day he got his Law degree. He took a deep breath, knowing damn well what would happen next, and opened the yearbook. The pictures brought back bittersweet memories and his eyes started to water. He missed those carefree days. He finally found the picture he was looking for, a picture that described the relationship he had with the giant boy to perfection. Cartman was dressed up as Adolph Hitler and Kyle was dressed up as Franklin Roosevelt; Cartman was clearly upset while Kyle was cheering. They had played Axis and Allies, a World War Two strategy game, and Kyle had just won by having France and Russia invade Germany. The game lasted twenty-four hours and Kyle was psyched by finally having the last word. That picture was taken during spring break of senior year. Their rivalry only died down when they bumped into each other on campus at Harvard: it turned out the fat ass had excellent grades and that since he came from a single parent family with little income, he qualified for a scholarship and a bursary. As a matter a fact, Cartman graduated Harvard with honours; he majored in business with a minor in world history and then went back to do a Masters in business. While attending Harvard, the two of them became closer friends and hostilities were replaced by endless teasing. Cartman finished Harvard a year before Kyle did and moved to New York City, but kept in touch with the redhead during his final year of law school, until Kyle got married to Rebecca.

His eyes still resting on the flickering flames, he thought of what happened after his wedding. He moved to Los Angeles with his wife and he worked for Sullivan & Cromwell for five years, making his way to full partner shortly after Ayala's birth. The rift between him and Rebecca widened during those years: he was either working like a dog, often spending the night at the office, or he was drinking to fill an ever growing void he felt in the depth of his heart, an emptiness that he failed to identify, let alone verbalize. At first, Rebecca tried her best to be supportive of her husband, but quickly realized that her efforts were futile and eventually gave up on her husband all together out of frustration. Kyle had rejected all her ideas to try and fix their couple: romantic getaways, doing activities together, joining alcoholics anonymous and couple's therapy. Back then, Kyle used to feel terrible when he caught Rebecca crying; he knew he was a very bad husband and that she deserved better than him. The thought of that reminiscence made him gulp down whatever Scotch was left in his glass as a lonely tear streamed down his left cheek.

He clumsily got up, making the yearbook and photo album fall from his lap and wobbled his way to his desk where he retrieved the bottle of precious liquid and poured himself another drink, a double this time. As he walked back to his favorite seat, more memories came to torment him. On Kyle's thirtieth birthday, his father announced his retirement and Kyle got to take over the family law firm. He moved back to South Park with his wife and daughter, hoping that the quiet mountain town would be the remedy to his misery: whenever he visited his parents, the town from his childhood seemed to soothe him. Unfortunately, once he and his family settled there, the void just grew bigger and deeper, his wife repulsed him more than ever, his binge drinking became a daily ritual and he gradually alienated himself from most his childhood friends, including Stan. Rebecca was through with trying to help her husband, but she still cried when she watched him come home in the wee hours of the morning, reeking of liquor and cheap perfume from God knows who he had hooked up with at Skeeter's Bar, completely and utterly incapable of coherent speech. Rebecca wasn't happy, and it was his fault. He should have felt terrible for treating his wife in such a wretched way, but he felt nothing when he looked at her. All he felt was that something wasn't right; something was missing and kept the town from seeming complete, and that something was becoming more and more apparent every time he drove by a certain green house. At first when he came back to South Park, he'd sometimes catch Ms Cartman working in front of the property, either planting flowers in the spring, mowing the lawn in the summer, decorating the house with pumpkins and scarecrows in the fall or shoveling snow in the winter. A few times he stopped by and made small talk with her, hoping to muster the guts to ask her about how her son was doing, and more importantly, when he'd come to visit her. Many times he fantasized to drive by and see Cartman ringing his mother's doorbell, but alas, none of his wishes ever occurred. One day, he noticed a sign in front of the house saying that it was for sale; it turned out that Ms Cartman had finally met her prince charming and that she was moving to a lovely villa by the ocean in Ogunquit, Maine to live out her ever after. All of Kyle's hopes to see his childhood friend vanished the day he saw that the house was sold and that moving trucks were driving away from it. Kyle was now quietly sobbing as he quaffed more scotch; that happened almost four years ago. What used to feel like a void in Kyle's heart started to feel more like a stabbing wound: he no longer drank to fill a hole; he now drank to numb the pain. The problem was that the pain never subsided.

Kyle swallowed what was left in his glass as more tears rolled down his cheeks. While the peaty liquor burned his oesophagus as it went down, Kyle glanced down to the shimmery invitation once more. His vision was starting to blur and he couldn't make out what was written on it any longer. He wasn't sure whose wedding he was invited to anymore; all he recalled was that the ceremony was to take place in Hawaii. 'Poor them' he thought 'Marriage is such bullshit!' At that moment, Kyle failed to remember why he got married in the first place. In his drunken stupor, he forgot what had happened mere days before he bumped into Rebecca at Harvard. The time his parents came to Cambridge uninvited had slipped from his memory. He didn't recall the expression of horror his poor mother had on her face when he turned around, still seated in his computer chair. His mind was too hazy to think back at how angry his father looked when he made eye contact with him. The memory of the shame and guilt he felt when his parents caught him masturbating to gay porn when the two of them paid him a surprise visit to celebrate his birthday, a few weeks before he got his law degree, was missing from head. The remembrance of the stress and humiliation he felt when his parents demanded an explanation for what they had just witnessed was nowhere to be found in his mind. He had a vague flashback of the discussion he had with his parent, where he basically had them believe that gay sex was a fantasy of his, but that he had never gone through with actually trying it because he was into women; a blatant lie that his parents were more than eager to believe. They were even happier when they got the news that their son had a girlfriend that he wanted to marry. The Broflovskis were more than delighted to pay for the wedding entirely, especially since Rebecca happened to be Jewish. Despite how dysfunctional his intoxicated mind was, Kyle remembered the moment when he pronounced his vows. He recalled how he cried as he said the words that would change the course of his life for the worst. The attendees believed he was crying of joy, but in reality he was crying out of despair. He never truly wanted to marry Rebecca and he had promised himself that she would never know his true feelings. He also swore to himself to be a good husband, a man that Rebecca actually deserved. He didn't know that he would never be able to honour these promises. He didn't realize just how quickly he'd grow tired of his wife. He failed to anticipate how short lived his charade would be. There was one thing he was certain of though; only one thing he truly wanted, but that no one would ever know of. The one thing he was obsessed with and that thing, or person rather, was Eric Theodore Cartman.

Kyle got up one last time and wobbled back to his desk with much difficulty: his vision was blurred, his legs were shaky and he couldn't walk straight anymore, so he had to grab on to furniture so he wouldn't just fall to the floor. He grabbed the nearly empty bottle of Scotch and slowly and carefully leaned against his luxurious mahogany desk. He took a swig right from the bottle. The degree of intoxication he craved was almost reached: he closed his eyes, letting a small tear droplet roll down his face. He tried to summon the memory of Eric Cartman's features and his face contorted with pain when he had some trouble remembering some of them. He took a deep breath and focused his mind to recall them one by one: his large mischievous hazel eyes, his cute little button nose, his thin lips that were almost always giving the world a smug grin, his broad shoulders, his large hands and the scent of his skin... Most of all, the aura of confidence he gave off. He felt his pants tighten as he pictured himself unbuttoning the large man's shirt and stuffing his face into his chest to plant some kisses on his milky white skin and gently suckle on his nipples. Kyle bit his lower lip as a shiver went down his spine. He took another quick swig from the bottle before setting it back on the desk he was still leaning on. He quickly unzipped his pants and stuffed his right hand in his underwear, grabbing his throbbing cock. As he envisioned himself removing Eric's pants and taking his member in his mouth, he started to stroke himself with vigor. Small jolts of pleasure emanated from his crotch as he imagined Eric moaning and calling his name. When Kyle visualised Eric turning him around and pressing his hard manhood against his tight entrance, it was too much for him to bear: he grunted as his semen started spilling in his underwear. He took a few moments to regain his breath before he opened his eyes and come back to his cruel and disappointing reality: he had just jerked off in his study while his wife and kids were in the adjacent living room and he hadn't seen or spoken to the object of his desire in a decade. Kyle didn't care that his hand was covered in his own seed; he grabbed the bottle next to him and chugged down what was left in it before he violently threw it in the direction of the fire place, knocking down a picture frame that rested on top of it. The bottle and the glass from the frame shattered into hundreds of tiny little pieces; Kyle let himself slide down from the desk, unto his knees as he started to cry again. Not before long, he heard a knock on the door.

"Daddy, are you OK? Did you hurt yourself?" his daughter asked him. Upon hearing the question, Kyle cleared his throat.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Everything's ok." He lied, but his tenacious daughter knew better than that.

"Are you sure? Can I come in?" She asked in the sweetest voice possible. Kyle sighed; there was no way in hell he would ever allow his daughter to see him in that state.

"No need for you to come in; there's glass everywhere and I don't want you to hurt yourself." He quickly replied, hoping that Ayala would just get off his case. There was a moment of silence, and just as Kyle started to believe he was off the hook, he heard another knock on the door.

"Daddy, can I talk to you? Like, can we talk face to face?" Ayala asked. Kyle sighed and grabbed his face with both his hands. He knew he was piss drunk, and he hated having conversations with his family while inebriated, but how could he turn down his daughter's request? One thing was certain: he wouldn't let Ayala come in the study, not tonight.

"Of course we can talk. How about you go up and get yourself ready for bed? I'll be up in a little bit so we can talk before I tuck you in." Kyle said back to her, trying his best not to slur. He had just bought himself fifteen minutes of sobering up time. Of course, there was no way on Earth he would be sober in such little time, but it made sense to his intoxicated mind.

"Thank you Daddy! I'm gonna go wash up right away." His daughter exclaimed almost cheerfully, and then Kyle heard her run up the stairs.

Kyle took a deep breath and painfully brought himself to a standing position, trying really hard not to wobble all over the place. He zipped up his pants back up and drew in a deep breath to try and fight off his dizziness. He took a few steps towards the fire place, being as careful as he could around the broken glass that was scattered all over the hardwood floor. He carefully crouched down to pick up the picture frame and he examined it; it was a fairy recent family portrait, taken about a year prior, where he had Ayala sitting on his lap and his arm was wrapped around Rebecca's shoulder as she held Adam in her arms. The four family members were all smiles on the picture, but Ayala had the biggest, toothiest grin out of them all even if one of her front teeth was missing. 'We truly mastered the art of looking like a happy and united family' he thought to himself. Kyle remembered the day that the photo was taken; Ayala had lost a baby tooth the night before. Her mother told her to put it under her pillow so that the tooth fairy could pick it up and give her a dollar in exchange. Kyle agreed with his wife that he'd be the one leaving the coin under the little girl's pillow, but he had gotten far too drunk to be discreet. Kyle felt a pinch in his heart as he remembered how he stumbled on his own feet, lost the little balance he had and fell on top of his daughter who never got so scared in her short life. When she demanded to know what her father was doing in her room in the middle of the night, Kyle felt trapped and told her that the tooth fairy was on vacation and that she asked him to replace him for that one time. Ayala was far too intelligent to fall for such a petty lie, and she called her father out on it. Kyle was then forced to tell her that the tooth fairy didn't exist and that it was parents who left money for their children. Upon learning the truth, Kyle painfully watched his daughter's eyes fill with tears. Rebecca, who had rushed to the little girl's bedroom to see what the ruckus was all about, stood in the doorway and gave her husband the look of death. Kyle didn't care much for his wife's reaction, but he felt horrible about breaking his daughter's heart. Kyle adored his daughter: she was his little ray of sunshine, his motivation to get up in the morning and the reason he came back home at night. The following morning, while Kyle was drinking his coffee and was watching the news, he was surprised when Ayala stormed down the stairs, ran to him and jumped on his lap, nearly knocking the kitchen stool he was sitting on over. She hugged her father tightly, thanking him for telling her the truth.

His gaze still resting on the family portrait, Kyle smiled for the first time that evening, but frowned immediately after, when he realized that his daughter was waiting for him upstairs. As steadily as he could, he put the broken picture frame back on top of the fireplace and drew in another deep breath.

"Fuck my life" The redhead mumbled to himself as he made his way to the study's door, once again careful not to stumble or step on glass shards and concentrating to walk as straight as possible. As soon as he walked out of his study, he marched to the powder room as fast as he could, completely ignoring his wife, who was most likely glaring at him anyway. He heard his wife play with Adam; the little boy was giggling, and so was Rebecca. He resented her for focusing almost all of her attention on the young boy, and hardly ever gave any attention to Ayala. He knew he was a hypocrite for thinking that that way since he was, in his opinion, the worst father in the world. After he switched on the lights, he took a look at himself in the mirror: his face looked as though it had been through a war; his eyes told a tale of despair and exhaustion and his hair resembled a rat's nest. He washed his hand and splashed some water in his face; the coolness felt good against his skin. He opened the pharmacy and grabbed the mouth wash; the stale aftertaste of liquor was quickly replaced by minty freshness. The last thing Kyle needed to do was to grab a comb and try to tame the tangled mess on his head so he could look a little more presentable to his precious little girl. After one last look in the mirror, Kyle deemed he looked as presentable as he could be in his current state, so he walked out the powder room and headed to the stairs. As he went up, he saw the light on in Adam's room and he heard his wife's familiar voice telling him the story of a thief who took from the rich and gave to the poor as Kyle let himself into his daughter's room.

Ayala was in her bed, quietly reading a _Through the Looking Glass_ as she waited for her father. As soon as Kyle knocked on the door, the little girly swiftly closed her book and set it aside.

"What do you want to talk about sweetie?" Kyle asked as he sat on his daughter's bed.

"Well, you know my friend Lily? I went to her place last week and we played in her room. And then we went downstairs and I saw her parents hugging…"

Ayala paused and looked at her father. Kyle stared blankly at his little girl. He was trying to anticipate what she was about to tell him.

"You know my other friend Fiona? Whenever I go over, I always see her parents cuddling on the couch as they watch TV…"

The little girl paused once again. Kyle noticed that her cheeks were getting a little rosy tint.

"And then there's grandpa and grandma always holding hands…"

Kyle had an idea where this was going, and if he was right, it wasn't the kind of conversation he enjoyed having while he was drunk.

"Yes, a lot of couples display affection." Kyle added, fearing that his daughter was going to ask him about sex.

"How come you and mom never do it then?" She bluntly asked.

Kyle was caught off guard. He couldn't tell Ayala the truth: she'd be devastated!

"We don't feel the need to." Kyle replied, hoping it will satisfy his daughter's curiosity.

"Dad, do you and mom still love each other?" She asked just as bluntly as she did before.

"Of course we do, Honey!" He lied through his teeth as he suppressed a gag brought on by the mere idea of loving Rebecca.

"But you never hug each other or tell each other 'I love you'. You barely even talk to each other!" The little girl banged her fists on her bed out of frustration while Kyle just stared at her, speechless.

Kyle truly wished he was sober to have this conversation: his mind was too sluggish to come up with anything to respond to the little girl's questions. He couldn't just tell Ayala the truth.

"Are you going to divorce mom? Kelly's parents are getting a divorce…"

"Oh, so that's what it's all about. No, Ayala. Your mother and I are not divorcing." Kyle replied, breathing a sigh of relief at the thought of this uncomfortable conversation being over and done with.

"But you don't love each other!" Kyle was impressed by how spot on his daughter was. 'Of course we don't love each other! I fucking hate that harpy!' He couldn't help but think. Of course, he could never say that to his kids.

"Yes, we do!" He lied, feeling sick again.

"So why don't you hug and kiss and cuddle if you love each other?" Kyle's head was starting to spin; whether it was the booze or the interrogation he was undergoing was yet to be determined. The last thing Kyle wanted right now was to visualize himself kissing his wife.

"Sweetie, your mom and I just aren't like that." He responded, figuring it was the simplest answer to give her.

"Really?" She asked incredulously.

"Really!" He declared while tucking one of his daughter's loose curls behind her ear.

Ayala smiled and thanked her father. Kyle kissed his daughter good night, being very careful not to stumble and fall over her. He tucked her in and turned off her light before he made his way to the bedroom door, glancing one last time at Ayala as she turned to her side, facing her father once more.

"I wouldn't be angry at you." She said staring at her father in the eye.

"I beg your pardon?" Kyle asked, both surprised and confused by his daughter's declaration. 'What does she mean by that?'

"If you and mom got a divorce, I wouldn't be angry at either of you." She specified, as Kyle stared blankly at her. "I love you and mommy very much and if one day the two of you don't love each other anymore, it wouldn't be right to stay together." She continued.

Kyle was shocked by his daughter's maturity: he recalled when Stan's parents briefly split up, many years ago. The first time, back when they were eight years old, Stan was devastated and devised a plan to get Sharon and Randy back together. The second time, Stan was being a cynical ass hole about it, but eventually realized how it could be a positive thing for all involved, but just as he was beginning to embrace the notion of change, Randy and Sharon got back together.

"Thanks sweetheart, but I think your mother and I will be just fine. Good night now."

"Good night daddy." Ayala wished him as she yawned.

Kyle closed the door behind him and went back downstairs, heading for his Study. He was three steps away from the door when he noticed that Rebecca was glaring at him, but looked away immediately and kept going until his hand was on the doorknob.

"Haven't you had enough for tonight? Don't you ever consider your own children and what you're teaching them by behaving like this?" She resentfully asked him, more rhetorically than honestly.

Kyle just shrugged, trying his best to ignore her and turned the doorknob. He was completely taken by surprise when in a swift move, his wife held the door closed by pushing on it as he pulled to get it opened.

"Go to bed, Kyle. You're drunk. You stink so much of alcohol that it's all I could smell when you opened this door earlier."

Kyle glanced at his wife's face: she looked tired, helpless and desperate. Yet, he could tell that she was determined to keep him from his study, and that was unacceptable in his books. His eyes narrowed on hers as he removed his hand from the door knob and rested it on Rebecca's shoulder instead. Thinking that her husband had listened to her for once, Rebecca smiled at him as she lifted her hand from the door, and small tears of joy started to form in her eyes as she somehow thought that Kyle would bring her in for a hug. She should have known better; without saying a word, Kyle gently shoved her out of his way, rapidly entered his study and promptly locked the door behind him. He heard his wife knocking on the door and begging him to come out. He heard her voice crack as she started to cry but despite his wife's wails, he nonchalantly walked to his liquor cabinet and pulled out another bottle, bourbon this time. Not wanting to wake her children up, Rebecca finally gave up and left.

"Thank God!" He muttered as he poured himself a drink and promptly gulped it down. The fire was dying out and the wind was howling. Kyle picked up the yearbook and the album he had dropped earlier and put them back in the drawer they belonged in before he went and sat on his armchair to stare at the last few flames. 'A storm is coming, no doubt about it.'

* * *

Kyle woke up in his armchair to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He had fallen asleep in his study and ended up sleeping in an awkward position. That explained why his body was aching: his neck was stiff, his head was pounding, his mouth was as dry as the desert and he felt nauseous beyond belief. He groggily pulled the device out of his robe's pocket and saw that the office was calling him. Panicked, he looked at the time and saw it was already ten thirty and that he was to meet an important client half an hour later. He promptly picked up the call as he jumped to his feet and ran out of his study.

"Donna! I know I'm late, I'm on my way." He said as he ran up the stairs, heading for his bedroom and temporarily forgetting about how sick and stiff he felt.

"Calm down, Mr. Broflovski; your eleven o'clock just cancelled because of the weather. He wants to reschedule for next Tuesday at noon and take you out for lunch to make it up to you. Do I add it to your agenda?"

Kyle breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing those words. Donna was Kyle's assistant, and he deemed himself lucky to have her. She was Gerald's assistant before Kyle took over the firm and she was on first name basis with most of the clients. Kyle was very thankful to have such a competent and understanding assistant who was always looking out for him. She knew about Kyle's bad habits and regularly covered it up for him. She saved his reputation more than once and in return, Kyle paid her a lot more than his father ever did. The fact that she was going to retire at the end of the year made him extremely anxious.

"Yes Donna, please do."

"Oh, and I may suggest that you take a look outside?"

Kyle complied with his assistant's request, suddenly feeling a rush of nausea coming back to him as he went to the window and pulled the curtain aside. He was shocked to see how much snow had accumulated outside; there must have been three feet of snow on the road at the very least. 'No wonder he cancelled! I would have done the same thing!' He thought. Worst yet, it was still snowing and the driving conditions must have been absolutely dreadful. There was no way on Earth Kyle was going to even attempt to drive in this mess, not with the crazy hang over he had.

"Donna, how about you shut down the office for today and send everyone home?"

"I think it's an excellent idea sir. I'll make the necessary arrangements immediately."

"Thank you Donna. I'll see you tomorrow."

After he hung up, he turned around and saw his wife standing in the bedroom's doorway. She looked exhausted, her eyes were a little puffy and her face was paler than usual, but boy did she look furious! Rebecca rarely lost her temper, but the few times she did, Kyle was genuinely scared of her. She looked her husband in the eye and crossed her arms. Kyle vaguely remembered being unpleasant to her the night before, but didn't remember specifics. He knew he said something to her after saying something to Ayala, but he couldn't remember what. The last thing Kyle remembered clearly doing was pleasuring himself while thinking of Eric Cartman, or more specifically the memory he had of Eric Cartman, and throwing an empty scotch bottle against the family portrait. And broken glass: lots and lots of broken glass that he may or may have not picked up. He took a deep breath and swallowed dryly: with Rebecca in the doorway, he was trapped in that room and had nowhere left to go, unless he jumped out the window. Oddly enough, Kyle did actually consider that alternative, but decided against it.

"You never came up last night." Rebecca stated, her voice dripping with bitterness and resentment.

'You figured that one out on your own? See, you're not just another pretty face.' Kyle thought, wisely deciding to bite his tongue rather than open his mouth. Never ceasing to make eye contact with his wife, Kyle remained silent and focused on his breathing. Kyle hated when Rebecca nagged him, but what he found really annoying was the fact that she'd do it either when he was drunk or really hung over. The silent staring contest lasted a few minutes before Rebecca's facial expression went from angry and stern to angry and sad. He noticed her eyes were starting to tear up. 'Fuck my life! She's going start the waterworks now.'

"You're just going to stand there and look at me? You're not going to say anything?" She managed to say as her voice crackled and two tears streamed down her face.

"I have nothing to say."

"Honey, we really need to talk, but you never want-"Something snapped in Kyle's head, suddenly making his head pound even harder. He just had to cut off that bitch he married.

"What do you want me to say? That I'm a bad father? That I'm a terrible husband? I already know that!" He yelled. All the nagging and the guilt were too much for Kyle to bear. He couldn't take it; he wouldn't take it, not while feeling ill beyond belief. Rebecca immediately signaled him to lower his voice.

"The kids are home; school got canceled." She whispered to him. Not wanting to put unnecessary stress on his children, Kyle calmed down immediately by drawing in a deep breath. "I want to help you, Kyle. I want to fix this. I've sacrificed too much to just give up on us." Rebecca calmly said.

Kyle burst into laughter despite his throbbing head ache. He laughed so hard, so maniacally, that for a moment he thought he was going to throw up. He laughed so hysterically that Rebecca's gut momentarily filled with fear.

"You don't even know what sacrifice means! You spend your days in a beautiful house and never had to work a single day since we had Ayala. You wear designer clothes and designer shoes; you get your hair done every ten days. You focus all of your attention on Adam, and barely give your daughter the time of day." He said, carefully enunciating each one of his words, walking over to her and grabbing her by the shoulders.

"Neither do you. You ignore all of us then you spend your nights in the study either working or drinking like you did last night."

"I had a chat with Ayala last night-"

"Yes, while you were piss drunk!"

"God damn it Rebecca! She's scared we're going to divorce!" Rebecca gently chuckled upon hearing those words.

"Geez, I wonder why she would think that?" She replied sarcastically while her husband glared at her then sighed. He knew she was right: he barely spent time with his family and it was hypocritical to give her grief over something he barely did himself. He loved his kids, but he was just too broken to show it properly.

"I'll be in the shower. Tell the kids that I closed up the office because of the bad weather. I'll be down for lunch at noon." He said, lowering his gaze to the floor, unable to look at his wife any longer.

Rebecca stood there and watched her husband remove his clothes and entering the private washroom that was annexed to their bedroom. She was unsure whether she got through to him or not. Once her husband shut the door, she stared at it for a few moments, lost in her thoughts. Many times she had looked back these past ten years and wondered what went wrong. Often, she had regretted saying 'I do' and many times she had been tempted by the idea of leaving him, but that would mean that she'd be a disappointment to her very conservative family; the Cotswolds didn't divorce. She forced herself to snap out of it and remembered that there was shattered glass all over her husband's study that needed to be picked up. She sighed, went downstairs where she armed herself with a broom and a dust pan before tackling the mess Kyle had made the previous night. Kyle's coping mechanism was to drink himself stupid; hers was to clean everything until it shone and sparkled. As she picked up the shards off the floor, she noticed that the frame that contained the family portrait was broken, but that her husband put it back on top of the fireplace rather to leave it on the floor. 'Maybe he does care about us after all!' She thought. 'I'll go out and buy a new frame tomorrow.' Hope is all she had left to cling to.

While Rebecca picked up his mess, Kyle turned on the water and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt very nice against his skin. He had taken two tabs for his headache as soon as he had walked into the washroom and he couldn't wait until the sweet pain killing effect kicked in. He knew his wife was right and he had to do something to get better, at least for the sake of his children. His main problem is that he still had no idea how he would cope with the chronic pain that had been afflicting his soul for so long. 'Maybe I need to get away and just be by myself for a few days.' As he shut off the water and grabbed his towel, he suddenly, he remembered the wedding invitation that he had received the day before and he figured that maybe the whole family needed a change of scenery. He would need to call Kenny or Butters and find out whether he could bring his kids or not. If he could, He could take that opportunity to spend time with Ayala and bond with Adam but if he couldn't, he would just go alone and take some time off by himself: there's no way on Earth that he was going to Hawaii alone with his wife since that would make his problem worst. Kyle got out of the shower and diligently dried himself. He felt something in his core that he hadn't felt in a very long time, a decade to be more precise. It was the warm, fuzzy feeling that made a shitty situation seem less grim. For the first time in a decade, Kyle felt hope.

* * *

After Kyle had lunch with his family, he excused himself and retreated to his study, much to his wife's displeasure. Kyle was tempted to pour himself some scotch, but he decided he would make the phone call first. Thanks to Facebook, Kyle knew that Butters and Kenny had both been living in Hawaii for the past eight years. Butters was now the manager of Coco Palms Resort, the place where the wedding would take place, and that Kenny, who had always shown a great affinity for dance and music, was an instructor in both disciplines on the site. He pulled out his cell and dialed the number for the Resort.

"Aloha, and welcome to the Coco Palms Resort. If you know the extension of the person you wish to speak it, enter it now or press pound for the directory. If not, please stay -BEEP- Welcome to Coco Palms Resort's employee directory. Please use the keypad to enter the person's last name." Kyle promptly dialed 786824. "Leopold Stotch. Press star to confirm or pound to start over – BEEP – Please hold while I connect your call."

As the phone rang, Kyle realized how much he hated automated messages. He hated talking to and dealing with machines.

"Leopold Stotch's office, Marlene speaking, how can I help you today?" A female voice said.

"Hi, I would like to speak with Mr. Stotch if he's available?"

"May I ask who is calling and what it pertains to?"

"Certainly: My name is Kyle Broflovski and I am a guest at Mr. Stotch's wedding, and I had a question for him."

"Please allow me to put you on hold. I'll verify that Mr. Stotch is available."

As he listened to mellow Hawaiian music, Kyle realized that he wasn't what he found most annoying: talking to machines or the crappy music one is forced to listen to while they're on hold. When he heard the ring tone again, he was hoping to God he wasn't going to get an answering machine.

"Well, hello there, Kyle! How's it going?" Butters finally replied in his signature cheerful voice.

"Hi Butters! I'm good, and you?"

"I'm fine, just a little nervous about the wedding, I guess."

"Don't worry about it; it's totally normal. Speaking of your big day, I had a question: can I bring my kids along?"

"Well, of course! I have a section with games and activities for the little ones during the reception as well as a special buffet table just for them. I'm sure your kids will have lots of fun!"

"My son is three years old, is he too young for that section?"

"It's preferably for children six years and up, but if you or your wife is there to supervise him, I'm sure your little fellow will be fine."

"Gee, thanks a lot Butters! I'm looking forward to seeing you and Kenny!"

"Same here, buddy! It's been way too long since last time! I can't wait to see y'all!"

"Well, it was nice talking to you! I'll see you in a couple of months. Don't stress out too much!"

After hanging up with Butters, Kyle felt relief: He could bond with his kids during the day without his wife around by sending her to the hair salon or the spa, and then have her watch over the kids at the wedding reception while he'd mingle with his long lost friends and acquaintances. For the first time in what seemed in forever, Kyle actually smiled and deemed it was time to inform his family about the invitation. He walked out of his office and headed to the living room where his kids were quietly watching television while his wife was busy ironing laundry. Upon seeing him, Rebecca was shocked when she realized that Kyle was still sober and watched him walk up to the couch and take the remote out of Ayala's hand before turning off the television, which triggered Adam to cry. Intrigued by her father's actions, Ayala just stared at him while she rubbed her little brother's arm and shushed him, trying to soothe him the best she could.

"What's the meaning of this Kyle? Adam was watching his favorite show!" Rebecca asked, perplexed.

"I'm sorry Adam, I have something to tell everyone and then, you can go back to watch your show." Kyle said, casually stroking his son's raven hair. "On May fifth, two of my childhood friends are getting married in Hawaii and we will be going. I'll make arrangements so that the four of us spend a week on a gorgeous resort by the sea. It seems to me that we are due for a family vacation anyway." Kyle finally announced with a smile on his face.

His wife and his daughter had trouble containing their surprise and excitement. Adam, on the other hand, didn't give a damn about the announcement and just screamed as loud as he could because he wanted to watch television. Fearing for the safety of his eardrums, Kyle immediately turned the television back on. As expected, Adam immediately stopped crying and went back to watching what Kyle qualified as a show for brain dead children. Despite Adam being a spoiled little selfish brat, Kyle was very satisfied by the eagerness shown by the two women in his life, particularly Ayala's: she was all starry eyed and even started to do a little hula dance as she imagined the prospect of being on one of the most sought out beaches in the world. He was looking forward to spend time with her, and notwithstanding his lack of emotional attachment towards his wife, seeing Rebecca smile and laugh in contrast to the gloominess she was displaying that morning helped him breathe a sigh of relief. And so, he informed his family that the soon to be married couple were two gay friends of his that he grew up with and that had moved to Hawaii eight years prior.

"I remember them! They were at your ten years reunion! Do you know if Stan and Bebe have been invited as well?" Rebecca asked, triggering unease to settle in Kyle's guts.

Kyle and his former best friend had drifted apart about a year and a half after he came back to South Park. Kyle didn't like how Stan behaved around his wife and how he constantly defended her whenever Kyle complained for something she had said or done. He didn't understand why Stan never took his side whenever Rebecca was involved and he soon started to feel betrayed by his supposed best friend. The two of them had some heated arguments, often while Kyle was under the influence, and had started falling out, slowly but surely. The straw that broke the camel's back was the day he found out his wife was expecting a second child: Rebecca was sixteen weeks pregnant and had known she was expecting for a while, but hadn't said anything to her husband. Kyle found out a night he was out at Skeeter's bar: he was already passed the tipsy stage and was beginning to flirt with a blond woman that was passing through town. Next thing he knew, he was on the floor and his nose was bleeding; Stan had just punched him across the face and was yelling all sorts of things that made no sense whatsoever. 'What are you doing at a bar, let alone what the fuck are you doing flirting with another woman while your wife is pregnant and home alone?' After a brief, but heated exchange between the two former best friends, Kyle left the bar and went home to his bitter wife to confront her. He demanded to know how she could be pregnant since they hadn't been intimate in years, and why Stan knew about it before him. 'You'd remember both things, had you been sober' was her reply. He took her word for it since he did have a tendency to blackout while drunk and he must have been really out of it to successfully manage to fuck his wife. Although he welcomed the little boy, Stan and Kyle's friendship never recovered.

"Earth to Kyle, come in Kyle!" Rebecca said, snapping Kyle out of his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry honey, I was thinking of something. I have no idea whether the Marshes will attend or not."

Rebecca was not dumb: she knew exactly what her husband was thinking about and she mentally kicked herself for bringing Stan up. She was usually careful about mentioning him, but the enthusiasm she felt for this trip made her slip. She immediately calmed down and quietly went back to her ironing, hoping Kyle wouldn't bring up the past again. To her dismay, Kyle excused himself once more and headed to his study, where he poured himself a glass from the bourbon bottle he had just opened the previous night. He took the time to lock himself in and switched on his computer so he could purchase the tickets for the flight to Hawaii and then something caught his attention.

 _Young Billionaire Entrepreneur Acquires Nearly Bankrupt Hotel Chain in Hawaii._

His jaw dropped and his heart skipped a beat upon reading the headline. He immediately clicked on the article and surely enough, there was a picture of Eric Cartman in one of his high end suits shaking hands with some old guy, the previous owner most likely, while a crowd of hotel staffers cheered in the background. Unlike him, Eric had aged gracefully and looked even more handsome than he did the last time he saw him a decade ago: a few expression lines gave his face character, some white hairs were sparingly scattered all over his thick light brown mane and that aura of self confidence that he exuded so naturally seemed stronger than ever. Kyle felt a jolt going from his groin to the nape of his neck as his pants tightened. He also felt a lump forming in his throat and chest; the emotional pain was too intense to take. He quickly grabbed the glass of bourbon he intended to savour slowly and instead swallowed it in one big gulp, almost chocking on the liquor. His teary eyes still resting on the picture, he went to grab the bottle, nearly knocking it down, and brought it directly to his mouth, and took several large gulps. Kyle hated himself at that moment: he wanted to change and he wished to be better for his family's sake, but every time he saw a dim light of hope in the darkness of his life, whenever he felt like he had the strength to overcome his dependence, something unexpected would remind him of Eric Cartman, and how he threw his life away because he was young and dumb. He set the bottle back onto his desk and closed his eyes. Unlike the previous day, Kyle recalled the day his parents barged into his dorm room, eager to surprise him and found him furiously masturbating to gay porn. He even remembered what he was watching: a large brown haired man brutally pounding a scrawny little redhead boy. The skinny boy was tied up and could do little more than endure, moan and scream as the man's enormous penis was being rammed in and out of his gaping entrance. Kyle took a few more swigs out of his bottle as more tears streamed down his face. He wished he could have told his parents the truth, but he was so scared of their reactions, particularly his mother's, that lying seemed to be the only way out of that hot mess. At that time, Kyle was already obsessed by Cartman, but he just shrugged it off as a meaningless and irrational crush. 'What is done is done' He thought, sighing. He took a look at the bottle: more than half of it was missing, and although he should have felt terrible about it, he no longer felt anything other than a hole where his heart should be.

* * *

Hi everyone!

I hope you're all doing well. I got so much love from writing Pleasing Falsetto that as soon as I got a bit of inspiration, I starting drafting this story. It'll be very different from what I've written in the past and it's basically a literary experiment. Feedback is welcomed with open arms. I am unsure as to how often I'll be posting new chapters: I work full time, I'm starting my own company on the side and writing this story is how I relax.

I hope you enjoy this creation, and as usual, keep being awesome 3

Much love,

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo

PS: Don't forget to review


	2. Ten years later: Eric

One could use many adjectives to qualify Eric Cartman's lifestyle: Fast paced; exhausting; extravagant; thrilling and even lonely. Only one word could be used to describe what it was not: ordinary. He was a self-made man, a person of great ambition who had made a small fortune in the first few years he was living in New York while working as an investment broker. Back then, he would invest every single spare penny he got in blue chip stocks. He kept doing that until he was presented with a golden opportunity; one October night, as he walked to his favorite restaurant to have dinner with a colleague, he noticed the small sign in the window informing patrons that the restaurant was going to be closed permanently at of the end of that month. Flabbergasted, Eric spoke with the owner and learned that the landlord had just raised the rent, and that although the restaurant was a relatively known place with many regular customers, if the prices were to be raised, people would just stop coming. Eric Cartman's main strength was that where everyone else saw disaster, Eric saw opportunity. That night, he had an idea he shared with his colleague: what if the place got renovated, and what if the menu was slightly improved? What if the restaurant staff walked around in the street and distributed samples to people who looked like they could afford eating in a pricy restaurant? His colleague thought it was a good idea and encouraged Eric to invest a big part of the money he had in investments to buy the restaurant, and even the building eventually. Eric liked that idea, he liked it very much. After a conversation with the owner that lasted until the wee hours of the morning, Eric made arrangements to buy the place and he was to take full possession of it by the end of that month. Although Eric hired some new employees, the former staff members were very grateful that their jobs were saved. Once the renovations were complete and the menu was revamped, it didn't take long for new patrons to come in droves, and it wasn't unusual for diners to wait over an hour for a table. The word spread so quickly, and the critics were so positive that by the end of the following year, Eric opened four more restaurants and started selling franchises. Soon, Eric quit his job at the stock market, recruited the colleague he had dined with on that October night as his personal assistant and the two turned out to be an unstoppable team. Soon, Eric started to diversify his assets and started buying out companies that were on the brink of bankruptcy so he could rebuild them from the ground up. He took pride in the fact that he helped people keep their jobs and as very pleased to create new ones.

Less than two years after he originally moved to New York City, Eric owned over a billion dollars in assets and the whole country was fascinated by the young entrepreneur; everyone wanted a piece of him. It was around that time that he gave his first interview and discussed his origins on national television. Until then, most people thought he had inherited some fortune through family and that he was just a wise investor, but when he told the story of how he was originally from a small town where everyone knew each other and that he grew up in a single parent household, everyone was hooked on him. When he proceeded to explained how tough it was for him to know that his mother had to whore herself out in order to provide for the two of them and that through hard work, he was able to get a bursary to attend Harvard University and get a Master's degree in business, he became someone to look up to. With the help of his personal assistant, he eventually started to acquire businesses overseas and became a worldwide sensation as his wealth doubled and tripled with each passing year. Everywhere he went, journalists and talk show hosts fought for the privilege of interviewing him, but he declined the vast majority of the requests he received simply for the fact that being asked the same questions over and over again became quite redundant. The paparazzi soon started to follow and harass him, especially when he attended high profile events and he was accompanied by a lovely young and famous woman. The funny part was that he never, not even once, asked any of these ladies to accompany him; it was they who requested to be his date. Eric's assistant would screen through hundred of girls before the perfect fit for a specific event was found. Sadly, despite all the wealth he managed to amass in a decade, Eric had no one to share it with.

* * *

Eric was looking out the window of his luxurious 7000 square feet New York penthouse, cognac glass in hand. Out of all the properties he owned across the globe, the One Madison was his favorite. It had a three hundred and sixty degree view of the city, five bedrooms and five bathrooms and it was spread on three floors. His favorite feature, other than the spiraling staircase and the fact that the triplex had its own elevator, was the gorgeous wrap around terrace where he would normally sit and smoke a cigar while sipping on some port wine. He had an event that night, a charity ball of some sort; he didn't recall what it was for. It was his personal assistant's job to keep track of such events, and the dreaded dates that would accompany him. Eric had worked hard to achieve such great wealth, but he was very aware that he wouldn't have been able to accomplish much without Flavia. He had met her back when he was working at the stock exchange a decade prior when he was still struggling to pay his rent. Flavia was the receptionist and the two of them got along very well and very quickly. He always admired her acerbic wits and found it was her best quality. They knew everything about each other and Eric regarded her as the closest thing he ever got to a sister. She was one of the only women that didn't feel intimidated by him, quite on the contrary: she called him out on his bullshit on a regular basis and wasn't scared to put him back in his place whenever it was necessary. For that, he was thankful: the world would have never had such a positive opinion of him if it weren't for her and all the work she did for him. Ever since his business became worldwide, he asked her to come live with him since the social obligations that came with his fame were too much for him to handle alone. She had her own section of the house in most of his properties, except for the One Madison where she had an entire floor. After taking a sip of his cognac, Eric glanced back at the small oak coffee table where Flavia had set his mail for the day, noticing the shimmery envelope from Hawaii that stood out from all the others. At last, his invitation had arrived.

Eric had lost touch with most people from his native little mountain town with two exceptions: Butters and Kenny. He had spent some time with them a few months prior when he was looking into acquiring a hotel resort chain that was on the brink of bankruptcy and Butters humbly asked him to be his best man. Eric was more than thrilled to accept Butter's request. When he returned to Hawaii in order to finalize the paperwork for that made him the official owner of the Paradise Princess chain, he took the time to see Butters once again and to ask him tips and tricks about the hospitality business. He even offered Butters a job with a better salary, but Butters had developed much loyalty towards Coco Palm Beach and declined Eric's proposal. He did however take the time to explain how proper Hotel management worked. Before Eric's departure for New York, Butters informed him that the invitations were going to be sent any day. Watching his closest remaining friend from high school being all smiles and giggles warmed his heart and gave him hope: hope that he too could be as happy one day; hope that eventually, he'd be able to get over a mistake he had done in the past; hope that with time, that wretched old scar would finally heal and close up. Butters also gave Eric a list of other invitees from their childhood: Stan and Bebe, Wendy and Token, Craig and Tweek and finally, Kyle and Rebecca. Eric's blood froze when he saw the last couple's names and he suddenly, he wasn't as excited for his friend's wedding anymore.

His eyes still rested on the city lights, Cartman sighed after he took a sip of his Cognac. He hadn't seen Kyle in the past ten years and was hoping the redhead would be a no show at Butter's wedding. Sure, part of him did want to see the Jew, but the other part, the logical one, knew it would be a terrible idea and that it would bring back thoughts and emotions he didn't want to handle. 'It's just so pointless' He thought 'Just a sea of ifs and buts.' For many years, he pondered upon how different his life would have been if the plan he devised upon finding out about Kyle's engagement would have succeeded. Part of him still believed that all Kyle needed was a little push, just more encouragement to be himself. Cartman knew why Kyle had rushed things with his wedding: he was too scared of disappointing his bitch of a mother! Shivers of disgust went down his spine whenever he thought of that fat, rabid witch. He vividly remembered that day, the day he was to execute his plan to save Kyle from making a monumental mistake. He remembered the excitement he felt as he walked to Stark's pond that early June evening: Kyle was to be married the subsequent month. Eric had left a letter for Kyle in his parent's mail box asking to meet him at Stark's pond around eight o'clock in the evening because they needed to talk. Eric had planned to tell Kyle about his true feelings because he was convinced that the attraction was mutual. He was certain that Kyle would have then told that Rebecca cunt to go suck someone else's dick and wouldn't have gone through with the God dammed wedding. Eric sat on his favorite bench and waited patiently. An hour passed as he obsessively checked his phone every twenty seconds as he expected the worst. He finally heard footsteps around nine thirty, but it wasn't Kyle. Instead, it was no other than that fat, whiny and annoying kike he had as a mother. She sat down next to him and told him that Kyle wasn't interested in hearing whatever he had to say. Shiela Broflovski then added that she noticed the way he was looking at her son and that Kyle was into women, not fat Nazi men and that all her son desired was to get married to Rebecca, the sweet Jewish girl from a good family. Heartbroken, Eric spewed all sorts of derogatory terms and insults at her, blaming her for Kyle's lack of self-confidence, but the fat ginger kike didn't even budge: she just sat there, talking in all the hate that was pouring out of the young brunet's mouth without saying a word, which was very out of character of her. Once he was done, Sheila calmly got up and took a few steps towards the water before turning around and taking a good look at him. She asked him if he cared about Kyle's actual well being, or if he only saw her son as a little toy he'd get tired of. Thinking that this was an opportunity to get Kyle's mother on his side, he was honest and confessed that Kyle was the only person he ever cared about, romantically speaking of course. Sheila sighed and said some crushing words to him; words that still haunted him a decade later.

"If you care that much about my son, think of his well being before yours. He's happy with Rebecca. Do him a favor and stay out of his life."

Then, without a goodbye or any courtesy whatsoever, the Jewish woman walked away, leaving Eric by himself in the dark. He simply stood there, utterly speechless for what seemed to be an eternity until his aching heart got the best of him and collapsed to the ground and he started to scream, pounding the ground with his fists. He wailed and cried like a toddler, and promised himself that no matter what happened, no one would ever make him feel like that ever again. When he finally got up, he headed to his mother's house and went to bed. The next day, he bid his mother goodbye as the cab pulled over to bring him to the airport, headed back to New York and never looked back. Sure, he went back home for Christmas, Easter and whatnot, but he was determined never to cross the path of the curly ginger Jew that refused to give him a chance. He was asked to stay out of his life, and so far he had honored the request. As he swallowed the last sip of Cognac from his glass, he heard familiar footsteps approaching him. He turned to face the blonde woman he had been collaborating with for all these years. Flavia was a good looking lady with quite an attitude and an incredible flair for anything that pertained to business. She was a great judge of character and she was exceptionally good at reading people, especially her boss. She was wearing a flattering, yet very simple, sleeveless navy dress that finished right above the knee. Her ears and neck were adorned by salt water pearls, a gift Eric gave her for Christmas a few years back. Her red varnished Chanel clutch matched her stilettos, thus making her outfit complete.

"Your date is here." Flavia said to her boss.

"Thank you Flavia." He said, putting his glass down on the oak coffee table. "Who is accompanying me tonight? Oh, and could you be a dear and remind me which event I'm attending again?"

Flavia chuckled. She knew her boss detested such events, but they both knew that the tax breaks, as well as the free publicity, were well worth it.

"Her name is Caroline Vreeland, the great-granddaughter of Diana Vreeland who was an acclaimed fashion editor and columnist. She's an aspiring singer who hopes to one day see her name on billboards-"

Cartman chuckled before she was done her sentence, prompting a grin on his prized assistant's face.

"I'm sorry, please go on." He immediately apologized.

"Be kind to her; I heard she's a little capricious. The event is to raise money for children with terminal cancer."

Flavia knew her boss very well, and she noticed how pensive and stern he looked when she first walked in. She knew about Kyle Broflovski and how he was to be a guest at Mr. Stotch's wedding. Although she had never met Kyle, she had a poor opinion of him because of the wreck Eric looked like when he came back to New York so many years ago. She was kind and patient towards Eric and did all she could in her power to cheer him up. She loved him very much, as one loves a brother and had been looking out for him ever since then.

"He's on your mind, isn't he?"

Without uttering a word, his hazel eyes met hers. He knew that there was no point denying anything because she could read him like an open book. No matter how good his poker face was, she'd see through the bullshit, and she was right, as always. He wanted to vent, but was unsure if it was an appropriate moment to do so.

"Has Miss Vreeland been told to make herself at home?"

"Of course, Eric. I allowed her to pick a bottle from your cellar and opened it for her to sip on while we discuss certain points of today's operations. I gave her full access to your television as well as your stereo so that she may keep herself entertained as we talk." She slyly replied, winking at her boss.

Flavia always referred to her boss in a formal matter, unless of course the two of them were alone, especially when something personal was being brought up and discussed. Eric Cartman was thankful for that: the formality of his jet set life annoyed him to no avail. She had also noticed that Cartman hadn't been himself since the last trip to Hawaii, when he found out Kyle was going to be at the wedding.

"Flavia, I don't know if I can do it: being in the same room as him and pretend nothing ever happened. Although, judging from his social media, he is a happy family man, I can't help but wonder what my life, our lives, would be like if I had been able to talk to him."

"With all due respect, a decade went by. Maybe, just maybe, you'll speak to him at the wedding and realize that it could have never worked out between the two of you. Remember this: if something is meant to be in inevitable, even if it's delayed. Contrariwise, no matter how much you push for something, if it's not meant to be, it never will." She replied, caressing his cheek.

"I'd give it all up, you know: the money, the properties, the fame..."

"I know, but think of it this way: maybe, seeing him is exactly what you need. Maybe it will give you closure."

"You're probably right. What would I do without you and your precious advice?"

"You'd be in an alley somewhere, shooting up and selling hand jobs to hobos!" She replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

The duo looked at each other as they smirked at each other. Emotional moments were not as common as they were at the beginning of their partnership, and it was time to get to business.

"Now that this is out of the way, have you researched who else will be attending tonight?"

"Yes, I have as a matter a fact. Most guests are New York so-called royalty: sons and daughters of rich families, including Giant Douche's kids. I heard through the grapevine that his youngest daughter Tiffany will be there. She'd make an amazing option for you, should you still want to go forward with that project of yours, of course."

The self-satisfied smirk on Flavia's face was priceless. The grunt Eric emitted upon hearing her words was worth at least a couple of thousand dollars. Eric had met Tiffany once, and he was not impressed. He was actually quite turned off by her lack of personality and her princess-like attitude.

"Oh, God no... Take that back right now! The girl is a total flake! She needs a fucking teleprompter to order McDonald's drive-thru!"

"True, but remember: her father was president a few years ago. She'd be a great asset to have for your project, don't you think?"

"But she's so lame and unbearable!" Eric started to whine.

"Ok, so it's settled: I'll speak to her at the event and try to get her to be your date for an upcoming event. Think of the press coverage: Eric Cartman is finally in Love; Tiffany Douche unlocks Eric Cartman's heart; Tiffany succeeds where so many have failed. Yeah, I totally see it."

While Cartman growled heavily as he grabbed his head with both hands, Flavia pulled her phone out of her clutch and immediately added the note to her task list. Still grunting, Eric walked over to the bar and pulled out the Cognac.

"Oh my God! I just thought of the best headline yet: Eric and Tiffany Cartman welcome their first child." Flavia couldn't help blurt out before cracking up at the idea.

"Fucking weak, Flavia! I'm going to need a drink to help me digest that idea of yours. Care to have one with me? Maybe it'll shut you up, Jesus!"

Flavia, still somewhat chuckling, nodded at her boss and sat down on the white leather couch as he poured the drinks. Eric knew what Flavia was trying to accomplish and although it grossed him out to no avail, it made total sense. To ally himself to the Douche dynasty would be not only a smart move professionally, but it would also open up a world of possibilities for the him. Eric had a clear picture of what he wanted to accomplish in the future and Tiffany may just be the key to make it come true.

"Many people in the world, including your soon to be married childhood friends, view marriage as the ultimate destination for love. What they forget is that marriage is nothing more than a mere contract between two people and nothing more." She said as Cartman gave her the glass of Cognac.

"I suppose. Have you arranged for me to have some company after the ball?" He said, changing the subject to something a little more pleasant.

Flavia smirked and nodded; she knew exactly what her boss meant by that. Eric had many assistants that accomplished various tasks within his companies and he trusted all of them to different extents: he trusted his administrative assistants with anything that pertained to paperwork and office coordination; he trusted his receptionists, the faces of his many companies, to project an image of professionalism and to be very client oriented and he trusted his personal assistant with his life. Flavia was at the top of the food chain, she knew everything about the companies and her boss, even his dirty little secrets.

"The usual, boss: thin, pale skin, red hair and green eyes." She replied with a wink, before sipping on the cognac.

"Male of female?"

"Male."

"Excellent!" he nodded.

He hated the fact that he had to pay to get laid, but he hated being heartbroken even more. After the whole Kyle fiasco from ten years prior, he had begun to understand why his mother only engaged into casual sex and that as soon as things got too serious with one guy, she'd cut him out immediately. His mother had told him the way Jack Tennorman broke her heart when he found out she was pregnant and picked his wife over her. It was much easier to get the deed done knowing that once he was satisfied, all he had to do was point to the door and his sexual partner would be on his or her way; out of sight, and out of mind. Flavia would only provide him with discreet, high class young men and young women to keep his urges sated.

The phone rang and Flavia promptly picked up while Eric finished the remainder of his drink.

"The limo is here, Mr. Cartman. Do you want me to go get Miss Vreeland, or do you want to take care of it?"

"It's fine, I'll go get her. I'll see you downstairs."

* * *

Cartman breathed a sigh of relief when he walked into his home; he was glad the ball was finally over. Although his date turned out to be a total bore, the evening had gone by very smoothly: he socialized and made small talk with many high profile guests and got a few business leads in the process. Flavia followed him diligently just in case he forgot the name of someone he had previously met. He had the so-called pleasure of spending time with Tiffany Douche while Caroline Vreeland was getting drunk and flirting with anyone who happened to have a penis, most likely in the hopes of making him jealous. Flavia mentioned the prospect of an upcoming charity event to Tiffany and asked her if she could make herself available to be Eric's date. While Eric was mentally cringing at the thought, Tiffany gladly accepted the offer, squealing in anticipation and jumped in the young billionaire's arms, much to his date's dismay.

The first thing he did when he entered his majestic bedroom was to strip all of his clothing and send them down the laundry chute for his assistant to take them to the dry cleaner. The second thing he did was to take out some items that would come in handy from his night stand: condoms, lube, a blindfold and some rope. He knew that at any point, a gorgeous young man was going to walk in his room and when he'd be done with him, he'd walk out limping. He pulled out a small box containing a little bag filled with white powder, a one hundred dollar bill, and his very first platinum credit card that had been expired for years. He drew himself two lines of the precious powder, rolled up the bill and snorted all of it up. As he felt the rush of the cocaine hit him, the door opened and a shy looking redhead youth walked in. The young man looked nervous at first, but when he realized who his client was going to be, a crimson blush appeared on his face. Cartman took notice of the boys discomfort and felt the blood rush to his penis; after all, he did always love to be in a position of authority and power.

"Well, there you are! Come closer; I want to see who I'm going to fuck tonight." He ordered.

The bashful young man took a few steps towards Cartman's bed and sat next to his client. He was quite the looker, a pretty boy; Flavia had truly outdone herself. Cartman studied his facial features with much attention: although he had green eyes, they were a deep shade of forest green rather than Kyle's spectacular emerald eyes and his nose was much smaller than Kyle's big Jew nose, but that was to be expected. On the other hand, his skin and red hair was in all points identical to the object of Eric's infatuation. The boy must have been in his early to mid twenties, around the age Eric last saw Kyle. The billionaire lightly caressed the youth's cheek, tracing his fingers to his plump little pink lips; another feature he shared with the Jew. To his delightful surprise, the youth hungrily started to suck his fingers, taking care to look him in the eye with a wild look of mischief that immediately reminded Eric of the way Kyle would stare at him during their frequent arguments. Cartman moaned as he felt the youth's warm mouth slide up and down his fingers; at this point, his rock hard cock was throbbing.

"Take your clothes off and put that wet mouth to better use." He demanded as he pushed off the silky sheets and pointed at his attention hungry manhood.

The youth smiled and complied with his client's request. Without taking his eyes off of Eric's, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt while the billionaire stared lustfully. Cartman enjoyed that little show, but grew too impatient and soon, he grabbed the youth's head and pulled it towards his groin. The second that the boy's mouth was on his dick, Cartman violently started to fuck his mouth, causing the redhead to gag as his eyes were tearing up. When Cartman was on the verge of coming, he pulled his manhood out of the boy's mouth and watched him gasp for air.

"Quit the crap and take your pants off, Khal!" Cartman sternly requested.

The boy, still trying to catch his breath, looked at the billionaire with confusion on his face.

"My name is Michael, sir." He said as he unbuttoned and slid his pants down.

Cartman, furious at his Freudian slip, gave the male whore a look of sheer rage. He grabbed Michael by the hips, turned him around and spanked his ass with all his strength, causing the redhead to scream.

"I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth, understood?" He asked as he grabbed the rope and the blindfold.

As the boy nodded, Eric pulled him in and made him lie on his bed, face down and he started to tie him up. Michael was taking deep breaths, partly because the spot where he got spanked felt tender, and in part because he knew what was coming next and he was trying to relax as much as possible to facilitate the act. As soon as he was all tied up and started to resemble a French roast, Cartman grabbed the blindfold and gagged the boy with it rather than put in over his eyes. The prostitute swallowed nervously, hoping that his client wouldn't go in dry, but Cartman grabbed the bottle of lube instead and poured some drops over his plaything's entrance, much to his relief. Cartman grabbed a condom and hoped on top of the youth; he inserted his index and his middle finger in his hole and started to finger him to loosen up his tight little entrance. After a few moments, Eric stopped and put the condom on. He heard the boy taking deep breaths when he pressed his hard member against his entrance. The boy gasped as Cartman slowly and gently started to penetrate him, trying his best not to inflict too much pain upon him until he felt the redhead relax; that was his queue to go all out. Each thrust was harder and faster than the previous; the boy's helpless moans were muffled by the blindfold still in his mouth, whereas Eric was loudly grunting. Unable to contain himself any longer, Eric shouted Kyle's name as he climaxed and almost immediately collapsed on Michael and stayed that way for a few moments, just enough time for him to catch his breath and regain his composure.

"You were one hell of a good fuck!" He said as he pulled out of the young man.

He disposed of his condom before releasing the fuck boy from his binds. Once he was free, the boy immediately grabbed his clothes and started to dress himself in silence, avoiding Eric's gaze at all cost. In the meantime, the billionaire put on a robe and grabbed his phone in order to call his assistant.

"Flavia, I'm done with him. Please call a cab for him and come walk him out. Leave him a very good tip. Oh, once he's gone, meet me in the living room."

The moment he hung up, he showed the door to the young guy he had just fucked and noticed that he was trembling.

"Thank you for your services, Michael. By the way, what happened in the room stays in this room. If you ever breathe so much as one word about what happened tonight, there will be severe repercussions. Understood?" He said menacingly.

Scared to speak, the boy simply gasped and nodded before storming out of the room as quickly as he could. Cartman sighed; for a brief moment, he was so deep into his fantasy that it felt like it was Kyle underneath him. He momentarily felt happy and almost complete. But now that it was all over and done, he felt empty and lonely once more. He couldn't stop thinking about Butters' wedding that was to take place less than two months later and he had no idea how he'd react once he'd find himself face to face with the real Kyle. 'I need a drink!' He thought as he walked to his living room. When he got there, Flavia was already standing next to his bar, with two glasses of Cognac ready to be consumed.

"I figured you'd want this." She said as she handed him a glass. "What did you do to him? He was quivering when I walked him out."

Before saying anything, Eric downed the entirety of his glass and extended it to Flavia, indicating that he wanted another one.

"The encounter was just really intense. It almost felt like it was him. From the back, I could have sworn it was him." He replied as his assistant poured him another glass. "There's that, and I accidently called him Kyle twice." He admitted, clearly embarrassed, as he and his assistant went to sit down.

Flavia almost spat out the cognac she was about to swallow. She swiftly grabbed the phone from her robe's pocket and started to look through her contacts frenetically. Eric immediately understood whose name she was looking for, and didn't think extreme measures were required for the time being.

"I can't believe you just let him walk out."

"Flavia, there's no need for Trent's services. I warned the fuck boy about the consequences if he opens his mouth."

"What if he goes to the media? Think about your projects; think about how your reputation will be affected."

"No need to worry, you said it yourself: he was trembling-"Cartman pleaded as he got up and he tried to take Flavia's phone from her.

"Think of Kyle. How will Kyle react if he sees a male escort that could be his twin brother and that you called by his name during the act?" She added, interrupting her boss.

Cartman froze upon hearing those words, and then he stopped trying to take his assistant's phone, letting go of it, and sat back down. That was a jab right into Cartman's heart, and Flavia knew it. She didn't like to use the _Kyle_ card on her boss, but it was sometimes necessary, like in this case for instance. 'There's no way in hell I busted my ass for him, held his hand and helped him build an empire and have the final project fail because of a dumb ass fuck boy!' She thought. Having regained full control of her phone, she finally located Trent Boyett's phone number and pressed on dial. Trent used to be a troublemaker as a child and he had gone to jail twice because Eric and his friends blamed him for crimes he didn't commit. When he came out of jail the second time, Eric had just made his first billion and he gave Trent a large chunk of money because he feared for his safety and that of his old friends, particularly Kyle. As time went by, Trent started taking care of some business for Eric in exchange for hefty sums of money and it also seemed that he had some sort of feelings for the blonde assistant, making it so that Flavia had the ex-convict wrapped around her finger.

While his blonde assistant was arranging a meeting with Trent, all Cartman could do was look at the floor and feel a little defeated. He didn't want any harm to happen to Michael, but Flavia had brought forth a good point: Kyle had a practice; he had children, he had that stupid wife of his. Why risk ruining his reputation? He had done nothing wrong after all...

This was on Cartman, a hundred percent on him. He sighed and gulped the rest of his cognac. By then, Flavia had finished her phone call and was adding the meeting in her agenda.

"I'm off to bed; it's been a heck of a day. Good night." He said as he got up and started walking back towards his bedroom. "Oh, and Flavia-" Eric added, stopping dead in his tracks and turning towards the blonde woman. "Thank you."

Flavia simply smiled at her boss.

"Good night Eric."

Once Eric's door closed behind him, Flavia poured herself another drink and stepped out on the balcony. She looked over the New York City the same way Royalty would watch over their kingdom. She loved being alone for it was the only circumstance in which she felt like her own person. She knew about Eric's demons, but he was oblivious to hers and the blonde lady was fine with that. She loved spending time on her boss' balcony and enjoying the view, alone. She enjoyed spending time by herself so she could focus and re-center herself, thus relaxing after the events of the day. During these rare, lonely breaks, she'd often think about her past; she had given up a great deal when she left the stock market a decade prior. Flavia was capable of suppressing her nostalgic feelings most of the times, but that night had been a déjà-vu from beginning to end: She remembered just how broken she was when she first moved to New York City back when she was twenty-three. The only good thing that happened to her during that chunk of her life was meeting her current boss: sure, he could be a douche, but he treated her fairly the vast majority of times, which was a change from her husband.

Flavia's heart sank at the memory of her spouse, the love of her life, and how cruel he had been to her. So cruel that it pushed her to fill up her suit case with basic necessities, cash out her bank account and purchase a one-way ticket to the Big Apple. As she leaned over the railing and tears started to stream down her cheeks, she remembered how sweet and carefree her life used to be before something in her husband broke and he turned into a monster. She hated New York to no avail: the place was crowded; is smelled like pure, sheer unadulterated crap and she could only see a dozen stars up in the night sky. Flavia enjoyed her most precious memories as she sipped on cognac; it was her nightly ritual. She'd torture herself, reminiscing on her own sea of 'ifs or buts'. Part of her wanted her previous life back, but the other part had better plans.

Once the blond was sure that her boss was fast asleep, or unwilling to leave his room, she fetched a cigarette from her robe and sparked it. To her, feeling the cool air blow in her face from such a high class, fancy building reminded her of the fact that she had played her cards right and that she would win in the end, no matter what. No one could stand in her way now, not even her boss.


	3. Trump Card

Normally, Kyle dreaded Saturday mornings: the kids would blast the television in the living room as they watched Saturday morning cartoons; if he was lucky, his wife would be vacuuming upstairs and if he didn't have that luck, he'd be enduring her constant nagging. Saturday mornings tended to be too loud and too exhausting for the ginger lawyer to bear. He would often make up an excuse and go to the office just to get away from all the action that went on in his house. This time around, he was enjoying the whole house to himself and he knew it'd be peaceful until dinner time. Rebecca had taken the kids shopping for their upcoming trip to Hawaii and decided to make the two hour drive to Denver instead of settling for the local shopping mall. Kyle had stayed in bed until his wife and children left, and felt ecstatic when he heard Rebecca's car departing from his driveway: up until that moment, Adam was crying and screaming because he was angry he'd miss his cartoons. Rebecca explained that all his shows would be recorded and that he'd be able to watch them later, but he was still making a fuss. She even promised him a new toy, but the little child simply didn't want to hear it. Ayala tried to reason with her little brother, but that too was in vain. Still lying in bed, Kyle pictured the raven haired little shit clinging to the couch while Rebecca and Ayala were trying to pry him off. That thought made him chuckle: Adam was a little douche bag; that fact was undeniable. But he was also strong, too strong for a little boy his age.

With his family out of his hair, he got up and brewed himself some coffee. It had been a month since he booked the hotel and the flight for Hawaii, and it had been since then that he significantly cut down on his drinking. He still drank every day, but his consumption level went from more than a bottle of hard liquor per day to only about half a bottle, which was still a lot but at least he was making progress. Although his wife was pleased by his efforts, even going as far as mentioning to him how happy she was to see him improve, she was still ticked off that he still spent a lot of time in his study. Even though Kyle was regularly spending time with his daughter, his spouse still claimed that he never took the time to bond with his son, which was bullshit because he did try to spend time with the toddler, but he just couldn't stand the raven haired kid. The boy had the attention span of a retarded goldfish and Kyle blamed his wife for the way their youngest son was turning out to be: In Kyle's opinion, his wife's overbearing attitude towards the boy, and the fact that she pretty much allowed him to get away with everything were factors that made the child so unbearable.

Cup of coffee in hand, Kyle went to the living room, turned the television on and put the local news on, which were quite boring for the most part. It was announced that the cow fair was coming up and that rides would be installed in the town's square, which Kyle made a mental note to take his family to. The weather for the upcoming days was discussed, they covered the fact that Mayor McDaniels was to retire and new candidates for her replacement were announced. Kyle was about to change the channel when they were going to talk about celebrity gossip until Eric Cartman's name was mentioned and his fingers froze unto the remote. Kyle couldn't believe what he was hearing; Eric Cartman had been showing up to events with the same girl on a regular basis and he never did that. Rumour was that he and Tiffany Douche were dating and when asked, Miss Douche admitted that she liked being around Eric Cartman and that she was going to attend a wedding ceremony between two childhood friends of her beau, and that on top of it, Cartman was going to be the best man for one of the grooms. Kyle's eyes grew as big as saucers as he spat the coffee from his mouth; that's when he realized that not only would Cartman be a guest at that wedding, but he was going to have to endure watching him being all lovey-dovey towards Tiffany fucking Douche; it'd be like that time he was dating Heidi Turner all over again. The redhead shrugged as he turned off the television and got up from the couch. Without a second thought, he made his way to his study where he fetched yet another bottle of scotch and turned on his computer: he wanted to know more about the celebrity duo, and he even pondered upon giving good old Butters a call, just in case the blond boy from his childhood knew anything about the wicked rumour.

He felt like a stalker as he went through the brunet's social media, carefully reading every single tweet he made in the past month. Bringing the bottle to his mouth, he felt his chest tighten as he noticed that, not only had he been attending charities with the Billionaire Tycoon's daughter, but digging into celebrity gossip news, he saw that they were spotted together going to restaurants, just the two of them alone. Tears streamed from his eyes as he realized that the object of his obsession was finally dating someone. Before he knew it, Kyle was drunk, and it wasn't even noon. Rebecca was going to be pissed off if she saw him in that state, but the good news was that she'd only be back with the kids around diner time. He was faced with a dilemma: should he stop drinking there and then so that he'd be sober by the time his family came back, or would he revert back to his old ways and just pretty much polish off every single bottle in his cabinet? This one time would be meaningless, right? Against his better judgement, Kyle decided to keep drinking and keep snooping on the crush from his youth.

He started looking up New York socialite blogs and instagram accounts, more specifically the rich kids of instagram since Tiffany Douche was a member of that pack of snotty, rich and spoiled brats that were so in love with themselves that they felt the need to share their every move on social media. In between scotch gulps, Kyle cringed as he endured watching pictures of that blonde idiot with her arm wrapped around Eric Cartman. Despite his drunken stupor, Kyle felt as though something wasn't right though; he remembered the large brunet being a terrific actor that would do, say or pretend to be anything just to reach his goal, and watching these pictures, he couldn't help but notice that he didn't look authentic once bit. Cartman's smiles didn't look natural, they seemed forced; his body seemed too tense for him to actually enjoy whatever was going on in the background. After almost a bottle of scotch and viewing and too many nauseating pictures, Kyle passed out on his keyboard for a few hours and surely enough, it wasn't before long that Rebecca was back home with the children.

"Kyle, why are there no lights on? It's been dark outside for two hours." Rebecca shouted as she walked into the house, followed by Ayala holding Adam's hand into hers.

Kyle felt a jolt of lightning go through his body as he rapidly regained awareness. It was a rude awakening to say the least. Kyle immediately minimized the window with several tabs of blogs open, twitter and other social media, and instead opened one of his client files. He quickly hid his scotch bottle in his drawer as he heard his wife's footsteps coming closer and closer to his study and rapidly shoved a mint in his mouth before she got there. He wasn't feeling too drunk and quickly started to type notes before Rebecca finally knocked on the door.

"Come in."

"Honey, what are you doing?" She said after opening the door and glaring at her husband, rightfully convinced he had been drinking.

"I've been working on this case since morning and I guess I just got caught up in my work. How was your shopping day?" Kyle replied, nonchalantly as he kept typing, completely unfazed.

Kyle looked believable; Rebecca totally bought his lie and he knew it. He noticed by the way Rebecca was taken aback after she took a quick look at him. A look of surprise replaced the glare she was giving off previously.

"It was nice." She ended up replying before she headed for the door, clearly still a little fazed.

Kyle let out a sigh of relief as his wife exited the door, but that moment of relief didn't last long before he heard her footsteps come back towards his study. He kept typing notes in his work files although they were nothing but meaningless gibberish, little more than words at random. Rebecca popped her head through the door and Kyle, regaining his composure, looked up at her: her eyes were more sparkly than usual and her cheeks were rosy for once. He could have almost sworn to see a very faint smile: the smallest smile one has ever seen, but a smile nonetheless.

"I almost forgot! I picked up some pizza on the way back. Come eat dinner with us!" She blurted out as her cheeks grew rosier with each word.

She quickly turned around before the rosiness turned into an actual blush. Rebecca never had any trouble expressing sadness or dissatisfaction in front of Kyle but she could never bring herself to display any feelings of love and pride towards her husband. Let's face it: with a marriage like theirs, feelings of affection directing to her husband were rare, and the times that she felt anything genuinely positive, she'd downplay it. Kyle knew this; he sometimes had moments like that towards Rebecca, and he felt the exact same way when it came to displaying feelings to his wife.

He closed the client file, making sure not to save the changes he had made to it and was about to close the window with all the multiple tabs when something completely unrelated to Eric Cartman caught his attention. One of the entries of a blog called Gothamist was about a male prostitute that was found dead in an alley adjacent to Fifth Avenue. The news in itself wasn't that unsettling to Kyle, but when he saw what the guy actually looked like, it was as though he had gotten punched in the stomach. The victim was a fair skinned, thin, green eyed redhead. His hair was curly and he looked almost identical to Kyle, and although it was most likely pure coincidence, the corpse was found just a few blocks away from Cartman's pricy condominium. The victim was fully clothed and his cell phone was never found. It was also mentioned that friends of the victim claimed that his behaviour had changed drastically in the few weeks preceding his death and that he was apparently jumpier than usual and absolutely paranoid. The blog post showed a picture of him at his high school prom and Kyle couldn't get over how much the boy resembled him.

"Kyle! The pizza's getting cold." He heard his wife shout from the dining room.

* * *

Eric was admiring the view from his luxurious wrap around terrace, glass of cognac in hand, casually taking drags off of his expensive Cuban cigar as he thought of the day he just had. Tiffany had invited him to hang out with her fellow rich kids of instagram and he accepted her proposal against his better judgement. He took the time off, knowing that Flavia was able to keep down the fort on her own, and spent his day in the Southamptons with Tiffany and the other brain dead members of her crew. He watched them binge drink until they got sick, he heard them spew a bunch of useless and meaningless gossip while they were acting like spoiled brats in need of a good spanking. Eric felt too old to be around them: he was at least ten years older than everyone around him. He had to constantly be on guard, just in case one of the snotty brats tried to take a picture of him and upload it to instagram while all this reckless partying was going on around him. He was known to be a classy gentleman and didn't want to be associated with such wild behaviour. He didn't mind being in photos so long as they were clean and that no one on it looked too intoxicated. When he had boarded his car with Tiffany to make the two hour drive back to New York, Eric finally felt alleviated. Sure, he was slightly annoyed that Tiffany got brutally drunk and was spewing all sorts of incoherent nonsense about how stupid she found her friends and how lucky they were to have her around because she was just that much better than them. After some more cringe worthy drunken nonsense, Tiffany finally dozed off for the rest of the car ride and Eric had peace for the rest of the drive until he got home and asked Flavia put Tiffany to bed.

"Meet me upstairs once you're done taking care of her." He ordered his assistant.

He made his way to his chamber and removed his clothes to slip on his favorite robe before making his way to the balcony with a much needed drink and a cigar.

His eyes still resting on the breathtaking landscape, Eric sighed deeply: his life had been hell ever since the paparazzi noticed that he was spotted with Tiffany Douche on a steady basis. Quickly, rumours of the two of them dating started to spread around on social media in a viral fashion. He was used to a few paparazzi following him around, but they had been multiplying ever since the story got out. He couldn't even walk down the street to go to the corner store without having a swarm of them all around himself. The only positive aspect of his relationship with Tiffany was that he had full access to her father. That was the only thing that made him keep the young socialite around. Flavia was correct: an alliance with the Douche family was what he needed. Eric had a lot of money and he was also quite popular, but Douche had something that Eric craved and desired; political influence. If he was going to reach his goal, Eric needed Giant Douche to back him up. The sound of the door opening pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Your girlfriend is sleeping. It was a challenge to convince her to go to bed, but the second she rested her head on the pillow, she started snoring almost immediately." Flavia said as she walked in.

"What a train wreck that girl! And please Flavia, just do me a massive favour and stop referring to that spoiled, idiotic brat as my girlfriend." He said, shaking his head.

"Duly noted, Mr. Cartman. You weren't kidding when you said that your future wife went a little overboard with the champagne." Flavia replied with a smug smile followed by a chuckle.

If looks could kill, Flavia would have dropped dead to the ground. She couldn't help but laugh at the situation, but she did understand how painful it must have been for her boss to deal with someone that immature and flaky. Eric had to understand that if he wanted to achieve his ultimate goal, he had to suck it up and make this necessary sacrifice for the greater good of his cause. In one swift movement, Eric grabbed his glass and swallowed every single drop of the alcoholic beverage before he slammed his glass on the patio table, nearly shattering it. Flavia's laughter came to a halt and she immediately took quick steps towards her boss and removed the miraculously intact glass from in front of him. Eric glared at her, but Flavia didn't let herself be bothered and instead grabbed his hand to lead him inside to the couch where she instructed him to take deep breaths as she massaged his shoulders. She had seen him undergo bouts of rage before, and she knew how to handle it when his emotions got the best of him.

"I can't do it, Flavia! I just can't! The girl is a shit stirrer! Earlier in the car, before she dozed off, she just kept complaining about her stupid friends and the fact that I haven't fucked her yet. Then, she started to give me shit because you live with me. She thinks you and I have sex every night." He said, trying to keep himself as calm as possible.

"That explains why she asked me if you were a good lay and why she called me an up no good skank when I replied that I had never slept with you." She said gently snickering.

"What did she call you?" Eric asked, dumfounded. "You see what I mean now? How the fuck am I supposed to tolerate shit like that?" He continued, raising his hands up in the air.

"Eric, here's the deal: do you, or do you not want to be elected President of the United States in the next ten years?" Eric nodded in order to answer her question. Looking at him firmly in the eyes, she continued. "I know you do, and we also established that you need to make a great political alliance, but that we have to stay away from dynasties like the Kennedys, the Sandwichs and Bushes because people are fed up with them. If we're gonna go full fledged House of Cards on this project, you have to put up with Miss Douche for a while." Flavia finally concluded as she noticed her boss's eyes were starting to water.

As his assistant's hands rubbed his sore shoulders and upper back, Eric felt his muscles relax slowly but surely. Despite the sting in his chest, he was starting to calm down. Eric started to remember why he was so motivated to achieve his goal as well as the promise he made Flavia: He'd run for president with her as his running mate. The two of them were an unstoppable team, and since his number one shot at happiness was a happily married man with two children, living all the way in Colorado, he decided to settle on the next best thing which was to be president of one of the largest powers on the planet. The idea came to him many years prior when all he had was a chain of highly successful restaurants in New York City less than a year after he invested into the original venue. The fourth restaurant was to be inaugurated the following night and he and Flavia spent the day making sure the place was perfect for opening night. The two of them opened a bottle of wine and chatted at the bar after the staff they were training had left the premises. The two of them were drinking to their success and were laughing and goofing around to unwind from the hard day of work.

" _We make such a great team, you and I! We turned a good restaurant into a five Michelin stars and made a fucking franchise out of it!"_ He remembered saying.

" _We sure did! We're unstoppable!"_

" _You're right Flavia! We're fucking awesome! I bet we could rule this fucking Country and fix all the bullshit! Think of it: President Cartman and Vice-President Fornari."_

" _We're going to need a heck of a lot more money..."_ He could still hear her laughter.

" _Don't worry about the money: the way we get shit done, we can leverage our way there without problem."_

" _What about the influence?"_

" _I'll just need to hook up with someone who is related to a past president."_

He remembered the way Flavia laughed to tears at his plan. She initially thought that he was kidding. He also remembered leaning into her and trying to kiss her only to be pushed back.

" _Rule number two..."_

" _Huh?"_

" _Rule number two: don't shit where you eat."_

" _Flavia, I'm not quite sure I follow..."_

" _God damn it Eric! You're my good friend, possibly the best friend I've ever had, but you're also my boss..."_

" _What does that have to do with anything?"_

" _It's not professional and it's just wrong."_

He recalled quickly apologizing for his indiscretion and the two of them kept goofing off, as though nothing had happened, and that the bottle they had opened turned into two bottles. As the hours of early morning passed, He kept bringing the idea of becoming president. The two of them ended up falling asleep in the restaurant, on the couch at the lobby where patrons would sit as they awaited for their table to be ready. When Eric woke up, Flavia was already awake and she was staring out the window. He remembered how much his head ached as he slowly rose from the leather couch. Flavia turned around and faced him with a stern look on her face.

" _So you really want to be President?"_

" _Yeah, that'd be pretty sweet."_ He had replied despite his throbbing skull.

" _How far are you willing to go to achieve your goal?"_

" _All the way; I got nothing to lose."_

" _So you'd do anything?"_

" _Yes. Hell! I'd do anyone to have that much power."_

He remembered his assistant smiling and walking towards him and extending her hand out to him.

" _Let's do it then, President Cartman."_

He remembered smirking at her as he shook her hand.

And now, he was dating Tiffany Douche and he hated it, but reminiscing on past helped him realize that Flavia was only doing her job by reminding him of what he had to do in order to keep up his end of the deal. He owed it to himself, to his sense of loyalty and more than anything, he owed it to Flavia. His assistant worked hard for him, and he knew how much she had to sacrifice to be on board with him.

"Are you better now, Eric?" Flavia asked him as she lifted her hands from her shoulders.

His eyes filled with tears, Eric turned around to face her and nodded. He knew he'd pull through.

"Flavia, could you possibly pour us some cognac?"

Flavia's worried look faded and a smile drew itself on her lips as she got up and walked to the bar to do what she was instructed.

"I'm glad you're doing better." She said as she poured the drinks

After she came back and handed him his glass, Eric looked at her in the eyes one more time as he grabbed his drink and started sipping on it.

"I just don't know how I'm going to pull this off..."

"Pretending to like her? She's a spoiled idiot! There's no way on Earth she'd ever notice you're not that into her."

"No, Flavia, that's not the issue."

"You're worried Mr. Douche will figure out what you're doing? He's probably dumber than her, so I wouldn't worry too much about it." She replied giggling as Eric responded with a glare.

"No, I can handle that guy; his bark is worst than his bite."

"So what is it then?"

"How the hell am I going to fuck her? The mere thought of it makes my stomach turn."

Flavia burst into laughter which annoyed Eric Cartman to no avail.

"Put a picture of _you know who_ on the shelf above your bed and look at it instead of her. All you have to do is make sure you're always on top." She suggested before chuckling again.

Eric was completely taken by surprise. He was horrified at that idea, but had he not been the butt of this joke, he would have probably found it hilarious.

"Flavia, seriously..."

"I was serious."

"God damn it Flavia! That's fucking gross."

The more upset Cartman got, the more Flavia laughed, he was seriously starting to get pissed off until Flavia raised her glass.

"To dirty work!" She said as her giggles subsided.

Eric agreed that doing Tiffany Douche was dirty work, so he raised his glass as well. After the two clinked glasses and downed their liquor, Flavia had more to add to the conversation.

"You should propose to Miss Douche at the brunch following the wedding of Mr. Stotch and Mr. McCormick. It would be the most strategic move for you to make."

"Very well, but you'll have to get her ring size." Cartman replied after sighing heavily.

"I took care of that already. She's a size six and a half, just like me." Flavia said after winking to her boss.

Eric was stunned by her answer. 'How the fuck did she manage to do that?'

"in case you're wondering, I waited until she fell asleep earlier to take it. I have an idea for a ring that she'll most certainly love, but I am warning you: it's very expensive." She continued after noticing the confusion on her boss' face.

"Sneaky like a Jew! I like that! How much are we talking about?" He asked as he took his glass to his lips once more.

"Eight million." She replied, almost embarrassed by the figure.

Eric spat the cognac out of his mouth upon hearing that figure.

"Eight million dollars? Why would I spend that kind of money on a stupid spoiled brat that I can't stand?" He screamed back at Flavia.

There was a moment of silence where the two long time partners stared each other down. Flavia's expression was stoic and Eric was mostly angry. He had a lot of money, but he hated wasting it on petty things.

"It's very simple: to impress her father. He paid three millions for his wife's ring. You spending more than double what he did will make him think very highly of you and he'll pretty much be eating out of your hand." His assistant slyly replied, with a smile that could only be rivaled by that of the Cheshire cat.

"That's a great point. I hadn't thought of that. Do me a favour and go pick it up as soon as possible. Tell me something: why do you think I should propose at Butters' and Kenny's wedding?"

"It'll be quiet and secluded. You'll be surrounded by your childhood friends and acquaintances. If you think it's a bad idea because a certain redhead will be amongst the guests, you could always do it at one of the upcoming charity events, or better yet, on the street while you're surrounded by the paparazzi." She replied with sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"I don't find your examples very amusing, but you do make a fair point. So be it!" He said as he got up and swallowed whatever was left of his cognac. "In any case, I'm beat and I need to sleep. Have a good night." He continued as he started walking towards his room.

"Eric, may I suggest you slip in bed with Miss Douche instead?"

Eric's eyes widened as he turned around to face his blonde assistant. He hoped that she was kidding, but judging by the dead serious look on his face, he concluded that she wasn't.

"Why do you think it's a good idea?" He asked with some tremor in his voice.

"When I accompanied Miss Douche to her bed, I offered her some nightwear which she declined. She claimed that she always sleeps naked, and then you said that she was pestering you for sex, right?"

"Right, and?"

"And judging by how intoxicated she is, I doubt she'll remember anything tomorrow morning."

"What's the point?"

"Get naked and crawl into bed with her. Leave an empty condom wrapper on the night stand, and she won't be able to complain that you haven't had sex with her yet. She's going to be pleased and you won't have to fuck her for another week or so."

Eric's eyes widened.

"Oh, my God Flavia! You are an evil genius!" He replied with a devious smile on his lips.

"I'll pick up over here. Go to her." Flavia said.

Eric went to his bedroom to grab a condom before making his way down the stairs while Flavia picked up Eric's glass, washed it and put it away. She poured herself another glass of cognac and headed for the terrace. She leaned over the railing, grabbed a cigarette from her pocket and quickly lit it as she was admiring the view. As she breathed out smoke in the cool spring air she felt her phone vibrate in her right pocket. She pulled it out and saw she had just received the text she had been waiting for all night.

 _I was able to negotiate the deal and the other party is on board_

She sighed a breath of relief upon reading those lines; she was starting to worry that Trent would fail to deliver this time around. She should have known better since Trent had never let her down, not even once. The ginger fuck boy was one less thing to worry about. She had given him a portion of the money he wanted as a sort of down payment a few days prior when she met up with him in a shitty bar in the Meatpacking District. Now, she had to give him the balance of what he was owed.

 _ **Excellent work! I'll add the commission to payroll.**_

 _When?_

 _ **Next pay cycle, therefore on Wednesday.**_

 _Thank you!_

As she put her phone away, she took one last drag from her cigarette before she threw it down into oblivion. Her gaze fixated on the city skyline, she let her memories flood her mind like she did every night since she moved to the Big Apple.


	4. Terrible Parents

Kyle felt nothing but relief as the plane landed. To escape his wife's constant bickering and gossip, he quickly pretended to be fast asleep in his seat. He had already endured enough of Rebecca's constant chatter some time before while he was driving his family to the Denver airport. He was excited and scared about this trip: on one end, he was going to have access to one of the most coveted beach resorts in Hawaii and Butters had told him that all the guests that came for his wedding would have been handed out a pass for free drinks at the bar during their stay, but on the other hand, he was going to be stuck with his wife and kids for a whole week and to make matters worse, he was going to see Eric Cartman and his bimbo only two days later. He had figured out some sort of a plan to keep his family, Rebecca and Adam more specifically, to leave him alone: send off Rebecca to shop and to get pampered and the resort had a daycare for children under the age of five. As soon as they stepped down the plane, Kyle's goal was to retrieve his luggage and to hop in a cab immediately after. His plan was to check in to Coco Palms Resort and hit the bar right after dinner. His alcohol consumption had been on the rise ever since he found out that his childhood crush was dating that stupid Douche airhead. He had managed to keep it a secret from his wife, drinking with so-called moderation when she was around, but the second she was out, or the moment she'd go to bed, he'd drink recklessly. Rebecca had begged him to keep his drinking under control during their stay in Hawaii, but he had other plans; after all, it was his vacation too, right?

After checking in with Marlene at Coco Palms Resort, Kyle and his family went to their room to drop off their belongings before going to grab some dinner. As they ate, Rebecca kept going on and on about her plans for the following day.

"So Kyle, tomorrow after lunch, I want you to drop off Adam at the day care facility while I got get my hair and nails done in the city."

"No problem. What time is your appointment at?" Kyle asked, less than interested by his wife's plans. He just had to make sure she'd take Ayala with her so he could have some peace and some time alone to mentally prepare himself to come face to face with the brunet that haunted his memories.

And the bar. He wanted time to hit the bar at the beach.

"It's at three in the afternoon." She replied after swallowing the salmon she was chewing.

"Can I stay here with dad?" Ayala asked in a pleading tone, hopeful that she wasn't going to be obliged to tag along with her mother, and instead spend some time with her favourite parent.

Upon hearing his daughter's request, he felt his stomach tighten and he dropped his cutlery on the table. He loved his daughter immensely, but he really didn't want her around, not tomorrow. Suddenly, he remembered something Rebecca said on their way to the airport earlier that day.

"Rebecca, didn't you need to buy something for Ayala before the wedding?"

"Why yes! She needs new dress shoes! The ones she currently has are one year old and they're quite too small for her! Sorry Ayala, you're coming with me tomorrow."

Neither Kyle nor Rebecca heard their daughter sigh heavily because at that point, Adam was fed up of being given no attention by his mother and started to yell. Everyone in the restaurant turned to see whose child was making such a ruckus. Adam's scream was penetrating and migraine inducing; it could have shattered glass. Kyle hated bringing him places because he made scenes quite often, for no reason whatsoever. He sounded like a child getting tortured and soon, the other patrons looked at the Broflovski table with annoyance. Kyle hated having so many eyes glaring at him. His wife quickly stopped eating her meal and went to tend to the small child. The little shit head stopped crying the moment his mother's arms were wrapped around him. Kyle wasn't the only one at the table that had a hard time with the raven haired toddler: Ayala wasn't a big fan of him either and it was quite understandable. Everything always had to be about her brother, and she'd be stuck shopping with her mom the following day.

Leaving the restaurant, Kyle felt more peaceful. He gave his daughter a quick glance and she seemed more relaxed as well. The family returned to their hotel room where Rebecca immediately started to empty out their suitcases and neatly put the family's belongings away while Ayala and Adam immediately sat in front of the television. Kyle waved his family goodbye and quickly left them behind to go to the Tiki bar. Tropical music was playing relatively loudly and most patrons were sipping drinks out of coconuts that had little umbrellas on them. 'Pussies', Kyle thought. He sat down right in front of the bar tender and promptly ordered himself some scotch.

He had just started sipping his burning beverage when he felt someone tapping his shoulder. He turned around to see who that mystery person was.

"Kyle? Kyle Broflovski? Holy cow! It's been ages dude! How have you been? Tweek, come see who I found!"

Kyle's eyes lit up when he recognised Craig Tucker. Sure, he had changed quite a bit since the last time he saw him. His thinning raven hair started to have some white scattered in it. He found it quite goofy to see him dressed in a Hawaiian shirt with pink flowers, beige shorts, and a white and pink flower lei around his neck to make his tourist outfit complete. He sounded much more cheerful than he remembered, but then again Kyle couldn't help but notice that his childhood friend's cheeks and nose had a little tint of red. He was also quite wobbly in his movements; therefore Kyle assumed that Craig had been drink more than he was used to. A few moments later, a dishevelled and agitated blond man with an iced coffee in hand approached them and Kyle immediately recognized Tweek. Craig clumsily wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's waist and gave him a quick, tender peck on the cheek. Kyle, who had remained speechless all along, smiled at his childhood friends and pulled the two of them in for a group hug before he was even able to say anything to them.

"Craig! Tweek! It's so good to see you guys? How have you been?"

"We've been good. The business is booming and we're thinking about opening a second location. How's the family and how's the firm?" Craig replied.

A few years prior, the two of them moved to Cleveland because Craig was too bored living in South Park. Tweek was a nervous wreck for months when they made the switch, but all turned out for the best. The couple opened their own fitness club since Craig was a personal trainer and Tweek took care of administration for the place.

"My family's good, and the firm is thriving. I'm glad to hear that life is treating you well. So, since Butters and Kenny are tying the knot, when will you guys finally decide yourselves to do it? Gay marriage has been legal for a very long time."

"Argh! No! It's too much pressure! Oh my God! Oh Jesus!" Tweek quickly blurted out, almost spilling his iced coffee.

"Tweek, relax!" Craig said to him as he pulled his lover in and hugged him, which instantly relaxed the anxious blond man. "I guess this is the reason we can't get married yet, but we sure are working on it." The raven haired man replies with a faint smile on his face.

Kyle had always found them absolutely adorable together. He couldn't help smiling at them, despite a little sensation of envy coming from within him. In a way, he was jealous because the two of them had happily been together on and off for twenty-five years. He knew that they had had some rough patches in the past, but that was to be expected from any relationship.

"Have you guys seen anyone else from our group yet?" Kyle asked the lovely gay couple after he finally took another sip from his scotch.

"We arrived last night and we had lunch with Kenny and Butters today, but that's it. I guess everyone will be flying in tomorrow. We came here early because Tweek is Kenny's best man, so I wanted to make sure he's have time to relax a bit before the rehearsal and the big day." Craig snickered.

"Oh my God! Jesus Christ! Why is everyone putting so much pressure on me? I didn't want that responsibility!" Tweek screeched.

Kyle couldn't help but giggle a bit at his blond childhood friend's reaction: Tweek had been a spaz since his childhood although he significantly calmed down once he hooked up with Craig, but sometimes, the stress and anxiety got the best of him and he'd revert back to being as twitchy as the time he was convinced that gnomes were stealing his underpants. After the initial amusement, Kyle realized that Cartman was going to be at the rehearsal dinner too, and that he was probably already here.

"Calm down Tweek! It's gonna be alright. All you'll have to do is stand next to Kenny and give a speech-"Craig started

"Argh! Jesus!" Tweek interrupted.

"Give a little speech before dinner. Then, you can sit with all your childhood friends that you haven't seen in a while and enjoy a nice dinner while we catch up with them." Craig finished.

Although Tweek seemed to relax, Kyle did the exact opposite.

"Wait, isn't the best man, or in this case, best men supposed to sit at the table of honour?" Kyle nervously asked.

"Not in this case! Butters wanted all of us to catch up, so he's having us sit together at the reception and at the brunch the following day." Craig replied nonchalantly.

Kyle felt a weight in his chest as he realized he'd have to sit at the same table as Eric Cartman and that Douche bitch. Without thinking, he swallowed the scotch that was left in his glass as he would normally do when he was alone.

"Kyle, dude! Go easy on that stuff!" Craig said after watching the redhead grimace as he swallowed the liquor.

Kyle put the glass down on counter and turned to the raven haired man before flashing him a smile.

"Don't worry! It had just been a while."

Craig nodded at the redhead before his attention was turned to Tweek who was continuously fidgeting.

"Craig, I want to go back to the room now. I can't take this bar anymore! All the lights and the music; It's just too much and I want to go to bed." The blond asked his boyfriend, looking him in the eye.

"Alright Tweek. Well Kyle, it was cool to see you tonight. I'll see you around." Craig said after grabbing his boyfriend's hand.

"Yeah, goodnight Kyle. See you soon." Tweek added.

Kyle waved at his two childhood friends before he turned back to the bartender and ordered more scotch, a double this time. He was just wondering how he was going to make it through the reception and the brunch. He stayed at the bar for a few more hours, just downing scotch before he went back to his room where his family had been fast asleep for a while. He had to be extra careful going in because the kids were sleeping in the Murphy bed that was in the living room and he had to cross it to get the bed he was sharing with his wife. Once in his room, he noticed that Rebecca was sleeping in the middle of the bed, and knowing her, he had a feeling that she did it on purpose just to piss him off. He rolled her off to one side and stripped his clothes off before slipping in the bed next to his wretched wife.

"Kyle?"

"Hmm?"

"What took you so long? Have you been drinking heavily again?" She asked in a desperate tone.

"I had a few drinks with Tweek and Craig. I ran into them at the Tiki bar. We caught up and didn't notice the time."

He wasn't technically lying, but he wasn't telling the whole truth either.

"Are you sure? You reek of liquor."

"I just told you I had a few drinks. Of course I'm going to reek of liquor. Good night Rebecca."

Kyle was hoping to shut her up because he really wasn't in the mood. He turned his back to her and fell asleep shortly after.

* * *

Kyle was having lunch with his family and he could hardly wait for the meal to be over. Rebecca was going to leave right after with Ayala to go shopping for the little girl's shoes before her appointment. All Kyle had to do upon his wife's departure was to drop off Adam at the day care facility and then, he had the afternoon all to himself. He decided he'd go relax on the beach and order some nice cold beer all afternoon. His heart was racing with anticipation to finally be by himself and try his best to mentally prepare himself for the next day. He was scared of feeling awkward upon seeing his old flame, and the last thing he wanted was for other people to pick up on it. He felt exited when his wife finally asked for the receipt, which he paid for as soon as the waitress brought it. Outside the restaurant, the family split up to go their own way triggering yet another tantrum from Adam. Kyle picked up the toddler who was extending his arms towards his mother as the distance between them widened and Adam was screaming like a banshee. Kyle was hoping his eardrum would survive the insanely high level of decibels that were being thrown at it while evading the dirty looks people gave him. He saw a few people shake their heads, others just glared at him as he passed and some even looked repulsed. Without even acknowledging his son's laments, Kyle walked towards the daycare facility as rapidly as he could so he could go drink all he wanted on the beach in peace. The little boy eventually exhausted himself by all the intense wailing he had done and simply fell asleep right as Kyle was approaching the building where he's drop him off. He thanked God for that; the last thing he wanted was for the daycare staff to refuse to keep his little boy.

"Good afternoon! Are you here to drop off your little angel?" Asked a young blonde woman once Kyle entered the facility. 'Little angel? More like Satan himself' He quickly thought to himself.

"Yes, I'm here to drop him off. My wife made arrangements yesterday."

"Wonderful! What's the little sweetheart's name?"

"His name is Adam Broflovski, ma'am."

"You can call me Julie. What time will you come pick him up at?"

"I believe my wife will pick him up around six thirty tonight."

"Perfect." She said as she got up to get Adam out of Kyle's arms.

At that moment, Adam woke up and looked around himself, clearly confused as to his whereabouts and he definitely was looking for his mother. When the toddler realized that his mom was nowhere to be found and that he was in some strange girl's arms, his face gradually turned red and he started screaming once more, this time even louder than before. Julie tried everything she could to get the boy to relax: she shushed him, gently rubbed his back, and held the boy close to her, but no avail.

"Is he always like that when you drop him off to daycare?" Julie inquired.

"Why yes and I never understood why." Kyle lied. Adam had never gone to any daycare before that day.

"It's probably because you're still here. If I may give you a little tip for the future, when you drop him off, leave as quickly as possible. Kids are experts on emotional manipulation, and if you acknowledge their tantrums and give them attention, they know that they have their parents wrapped around their little finger. "

"Good to know! Thanks for the advice." Kyle replies, more than happy that he was finally free for the rest of the afternoon.

Kyle waved goodbye to Julie and got out of there as quickly as he could. He made his way back to the room his family was renting out and got changed into the bathing suit his wife bought for him in Denver. He grabbed a towel, slipped on his sandals and put on his sunglasses before he left for the beach. 'Free beers, here I come.' He thought as he headed to the bar, after claiming a lounge chair and beach umbrella. He ordered himself a cold one and went to sit down. The view on the ocean was truly breathtaking and Kyle found it very soothing. As he watched the waves go back and forth and the seagulls perform an elaborate sky dance, he started to finally relax.

* * *

Ayala had just spent two hours shopping with her mother and the thought that she was being dragged to her mom's hair and nail appointment depressed her. Ayala had picked a pair of shoes in the first store that they went into, but her mother insisted on going to a bunch of different stores just in case they would have found something better. The redhead protested, but she knew her mother all too well; Rebecca always had the final word. After going into nearly every shoe store on the strip and trying on almost every pair of little girl's dress shoes, the two of them went back to the first store and Ayala got the shoes she had wanted from the very beginning.

Rebecca took a picture of the shoes and sent it to her mother-in-law that immediately called her to tell her what she thought of the plain Mary Janes. Sheila, who never had a daughter of her own to dress up and pamper, detested the fact that her granddaughter was tomboyish, unfeminine and unrefined.

"I know, I agree Sheila! We did every single store and there was nothing else she liked. What do you want me to tell you? She's as stubborn as her father." Rebecca spoke into the phone.

Ayala shrugged at the comment. She hated the fact that her mother always spoke about her as though she wasn't even there next to her. Besides, the little girl was bored out of her mind and she had forgotten to charge her phone before leaving the hotel and thus, the battery was dead and she couldn't even entertain herself with a game. While Rebecca babbled to Sheila, the little girl's eyes started to wander around: she couldn't get over how many clothing, jewelry and shoe stores were on the strip until her gaze met a bakery's window where the most beautiful and delicious looking cupcakes were being displayed: red velvet, chocolate, lemon, vanilla and coconut cupcakes with different types of icing and toppings. Ayala slowed her pace to look before stopping in her tracks to look at that sugar paradise.

"I can't force her to wear something against her will! Don't you remember what happened last time?"

A smirk drew itself upon Ayala's face when she overheard her mother saying that last comment in the distance. She remembered that incident very well even though it occurred what she was five years old. It was the day of Adam's brit milah and the entire family had attended the event. Rebecca had spent that morning trying to convince and guilt trip the little girl into wearing a pink poufy dress, but she categorically refused. When Rebecca was about to give up, both her grandmothers tried to bribe her with candy and cakes, but the little redhead didn't cave in. When everything they had attempted failed, the three women came up with a desperate plan: her two grandmothers held the child while her mother forcibly put the dress on her despite the little girl's screams and protests. Moments later, the first guests started to arrive and Ayala felt too humiliated and betrayed to leave her room to face all the aunts, uncles and cousins that she barely knew. Her mother kept calling her, but she didn't budge. Her grandmothers tried to convince her, but she didn't react to them either. Finally, her eyes lit up when her father went up to see her and told her that he understood her and that he too had to do many things against his will and that it was all part of growing up. She remembered her dad drying her cheeks and holding her tightly as he talked to her. When she finally went downstairs to face the family, she remembers how relieved her mother and grandmothers looked for a brief moment before sheer horror took over their faces. Ayala pulled out her grandfather's utility knife, which she had stolen from him on a fishing trip some time before, and started slicing and ripping the dress as the guests stared at her in shock.

"What are you doing Ayala? Put that thing down now before you hurt yourself." Her mother had screamed at her, but Ayala ignored her pleas and chose not to comply.

"Kyle, do something!" Her grandmother Sheila shrieked.

Her father had run to her and managed to stop the violent destruction of the dreaded pink poufy dress, but all that was left from it was the top. The little girl had ripped off the entire skirt part before she handed the knife over to her father, not caring that everyone could see her underwear. Every single guest looked at her in silence, completely horrified.

"Why did you do this?" Her father had softly asked her.

"I really don't like this dress, daddy." She had replied to him in a tone that was just as soft as his, almost whispering.

That day had been the first time Rebecca ever grounded her. After that incident, her mother started grounding her for the smallest, most trivial things.

Ayala finally snapped out of it when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She realized that she had been staring at the rainbow coloured cupcakes for God knew how long and she figured her mother wanted her to hurry up, but when she turned around, it was a man and not her mother that had firmly rested his hand on her shoulder. He was a balding middle aged man with yellow teeth that seemed quite decayed. Whatever little hair he had left was brown with some white and grey hairs scattered all over the place. He smelled as though he hadn't showered in days and the way he smiled at the little girl sent shivers of revulsion up and down her spine.

"Where are your parents little girl?" He asked with a coarse voice.

Ayala's eyes quickly scanned the space around herself in search for her mother, but she was nowhere to be found. She wanted to scream and run away from this strange man, but her body refused to respond.

"I guess you're not a talkative one, are you?" His smile widened.

She felt the man's hand tightening its grip on her shoulder as he slowly licked his lips while his eyes scanned every single inch of her body. She noticed that the man had some sort of bulge in his pants and she was terrified at the idea that it might have been a gun. The man leaned in and took a whiff of her hair.

"You and I will be such great friends, little girl. Let's go to my house and play together." He murmured in her ear.

Her pulse accelerated to the point where the world was starting to spin around her and her vision started to blur. The strange man slid his hand from her shoulder and grabbed her waist instead, firmly pulling her towards him before he began to drag her away from the bakery's window. Ayala started to tremble and managed to squeak like a tiny little mouse. 'There are so many people around me, why isn't anyone helping me?' She thought as she felt her throat tighten. Ayala had never felt more terrified in her life. 'What will he do to me?' She kept wondering. Awful thoughts started to fill her mind of the things he wanted to do to: cutting her, torturing her, burning her by putting out cigarettes on her small body, starving her to death, choking and gagging her until she fainted or died. She kept thinking about her parents and how worried they'd be and their reaction if she was found dead. She would have given anything to break free, but her body simply refused to respond. Other then trembling like a leaf, there was nothing she could do other than to be scared for her life and pray that a saviour would come to her aid.


	5. Saviour

There was only one thing Flavia was looking forward to at that point; all she desired was to finally check in at Coco Palms and take a well deserved nap. The past twenty hours had been quite intense for the blonde, ever since she left New York City with Eric late the previous night to make the long trip to Hawaii. Upon their arrival around noon, the duo parted ways: Cartman headed straight to Coco Palms to check in and get some much needed rest before the rehearsal dinner, whereas Flavia hopped in a cab and headed to Luxury Row to go pick up the ring. She had ordered the ring from New York's Tiffany & Co some weeks prior, and for security reasons due to its high cost, Flavia requested to have it shipped in Hawaii rather than dragging an eight million dollars jewel from the Big Apple to Hawaii herself. The mere thought of carrying something that valuable at the bottom of her purse made her a little paranoid and stressed out.

As she walked down the strip, Flavia witnessed something so unsettling that she couldn't believe no one was reacting to it. The people on the sidewalk would quickly glance away the moment they noticed the middle aged man with a raging erection who was dragging a petrified little girl. 'How is this even happening? The streets are crowded and no one is doing anything about it!' She thought as she picked up the pace to get closer to the little girl and the big creepy guy. Despite the fact that she was walking around with a ring that was worth more money than most people will make in a lifetime, she had a strong conviction to step in and intervene before something horrible were to happen to the kid. She felt shivers of disgust going up and down her spine as she pictured what that lowlife was planning to do to the poor child if she didn't step in.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She shouted when she got close enough to be at arm's length from them.

The little redhead's eyes suddenly shifted to Flavia and the assistant saw a glimmer of hope in them. The creepy man, clearly bothered by the interruption, turned around to face the woman who had disrupted his plan.

"She lives in my apartment building and she lost her mom in the crowd. I'm taking her home, so do me a favour and mind your own business, Blondie." He spat at her.

The blonde woman's eyes narrowed in on the stranger's: she didn't buy his claim, not for a second. Never letting her eyes off of the nasty individual, she flipped open her white and gold purse and pulled out her phone, held it up and started filming the scene.

"I don't believe you, you lying piece of scum!" She brashly replied. "Little girl, do you know this man?" The blonde asked in a softer tone.

The little girl, evidently unable to speak from shock, repeatedly shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks, clearly indicating that she had no idea who this strange man was and had no intention to follow him willingly.

"Just as I thought, you're a liar! You fucking creep! Let go of her this instant or the video I am taking is going live on social media. Everyone in the world will know your face and everyone will know you're a fucking disgusting paedophile!" The blonde yelled with a mix of triumph and revulsion dripping from her voice while a small crowd started to gather around them.

The man lost his erection as he noticed he was being surrounded by people who were glaring at him. He violently pushed the little girl in Flavia's direction, thus making her fall to the ground and making her lose her green hat in the process, before he ran away, shoving people that happened to be in his way. Many of the onlookers started chasing after him while Flavia kneeled down next to the little girl to see if she was OK. Seeing that the child was more scared than harmed, the remainder of the crowd quickly dissipated.

"Are you alright? Where are your parents?" Flavia asked the sobbing little girl after crouching to her level and handing her the hat she had just lost.

The girl tried to reply, but she was just sobbing and trembling too much to be physically capable to do so. The only thing the little redhead was able to do was to tightly wrap her arms around Flavia's neck and cry. Despite her exhaustion, Flavia was determined to get her back to her family and to encourage her parents to call the police and press charges against that disgusting pervert. The assistant held her tightly and gently rubbed her back.

"No one can hurt you now, I promise." She whispered in her ear.

The two of them stayed that way for a few moments until the child's sobs subsided and she was able to breathe properly again.

"Thank you." The little redhead finally whispered.

As the two of them broke their embrace, Flavia took notice that her lime green A-Line dress was soaked by the little girl's tears.

"Little girl, where are your parents?"

"I was shopping with my mom and then I got distracted by how pretty the cupcakes looked. I sort of started to daydream and then that guy grabbed my shoulder and my mom was nowhere to be found. My phone is dead, so I can't even call her."

"She must be going crazy looking for you. Do you want to call her so she can come get you? I'll wait here with you until she shows up." Flavia said as she handed her mobile phone to her.

The little girl blankly stared at the device that was put in her hand. For a moment, Flavia thought she was going to start crying again, but instead the little girl looked up at her with confusion in her face.

"I don't know my parent's phone numbers by heart. I have them in my favourites and just tap their names to call them." She shamefully said as she handed the device back to its owner.

Flavia couldn't help but giggle at what the child had just said to her because it was so true. Unlike when she was a kid herself, people no longer needed to memorize people's digits and she knew she was guilty of that herself.

"Alright, how about we go to the police station? I'll walk you there."

The child looked up at her and nodded. Despite the few tears left in her puffy reddened eyes, a faint smile had formed on her plump pink lips.

"My name is Flavia, Flavia Fornari and it is a pleasure to meet you. What's your name?"

"Ayala Broflovski. It's nice to meet you Ms. Fornari." The little girl replied.

Flavia's heart skipped a beat when she heard the little girl's last name. 'Could she be? I mean, she looks about right: Red curly hair, green eyes, pale skin, prominent nose and thin frame. If she was ten or fifteen years older, Eric would be all over her…' She thought.

"Hold on… Are you related to a certain Kyle Broflovski by any chance?" Flavia finally summoned the courage to ask her.

"That's my daddy! Do you know him?" Ayala exclaimed.

When she realized that she had just saved the daughter of the object of her boss' obsession, Flavia's eyes became as big as saucers. Ayala looked at her, a little perplexed; probably curious as to why the blonde had reacted the way she did upon finding out her name.

"Well, I've never met him but I know of him. I know he's here with his family to go to a wedding between two of his childhood friends at Coco Palms Beach."

"How did you know that?" Asked Ayala, wondering how this woman she just met knew so much about her family.

"I work for Mr. Eric Cartman. He grew up with your father in South Park. I guess I'll take you back to the resort and we'll find your parents and let them know that you're safe instead of going to the police station for now. They must be worried sick. Let's get a cab, shall we?" Flavia said as she pat the little girl's head through the green hat that covered it.

Ayala smiled at her new found friend, at her saviour, took her hand and followed her, fully trusting the blonde lady she just met.

* * *

The presidential suite Eric was occupying at the resort consisted of two spacious bedrooms and a small boardroom all connected to a large living room. He always had to get the best of the best. He had just woken up and had decided to go watch some television before getting ready for the rehearsal. He was peacefully watching the news when he heard the main door open. His assistant had finally gotten back from her task and he was curious to see the eight million dollars ring Flavia had selected for Tiffany, or Tiff as he now called her. He had reluctantly accepted the fact that she'd be his wife, no matter how revolting he found her to be. After all, he had no choice; she was the key to achieve his goal. There was no better way of forging a political alliance than through marriage. Before democracy existed, noble families married between themselves to keep the power contained. When Trump had run for president, it caused many controversies, but the man had created a movement that represented how fed up the people were with the status quo. His victory shook the nation, as citizens woke up the day following the elections, half of them cheered and the other half cried. Eric knew that getting Trump's support could be a double edged sword, but unlike the orange man, Eric had no scandals that tarnished his reputation. If people dug his past, they would find out he's done horrible things in his childhood, but he could get away with that, simply blaming his past immaturity for his demented actions. He needed Tiffany by his side.

"Flavia! You're back! Come over here and show me what an eight million dollars ring looks like, I'm curious." He said, turning his head towards the open door.

"Certainly Eric, but first-" Flavia started, preparing herself to introduce a young redhead girl to her boss.

"Eight million dollars? Wow! I want to see it too!" The little girl interrupted as she barged into the suite right behind her saviour.

Upon noticing the child, Eric's eyes widened and he gasped. He was shocked and in disbelief. The red curls, the emerald green eyes and that green hat. The sight of the hat made Eric's heart somersault and made his blood pressure momentarily sky rocket. He didn't understand what was going on, but he surely wanted to.

"Who is this?" He softly asked, almost murmuring as his lip trembled.

Flavia bowed her head and drew in a deep breath; she was counting on her boss still being asleep upon her return as she knew he would lose his mind seeing a little girl that was the spitting image of the man he had been obsessed with for a great portion of his life.

"Mr. Cartman, please allow me to introduce Ayala Broflovski, Kyle Broflovski's daughter." She said after she lifted her head to face him.

"Ayala, this is Mr. Eric Cartman, a childhood friend of your father's." She continued turning to the child.

Without thinking twice, Ayala marched towards Cartman and extended her hand out to him.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Cartman." She exclaimed.

Cartman just stared at the replica of his old flame, completely taken off guard and absolutely speechless for a few moments. The little girl raised her eyebrow, perplexed by the billionaire's reaction, or lack of thereof, and at that moment, she looked so much like her father that Eric's throat tightened. The memories of times Kyle had given him the exact same look started rushing through his mind and he knew he needed that child to be removed from his presence. He jumped up to his feet, glared at his overly embarrassed assistant and pointed to the boardroom's door behind him.

"Flavia, in the boardroom! Now!" He yelled before marching straight to the room.

Flavia sighed and started to slowly make her way where she was ordered to go. Ayala was evidently confused by what had just occurred and gave the blonde a puzzled look.

"I'll be right back. Forgive him: he's been under a lot of pressure lately." Flavia said to the child, hopeful that it would ease her, before entering the boardroom.

Eric was looking out the window, clutching the window wills. He was furious, and it showed by the way he was carrying himself.

"Is this some kind of twisted joke, Flavia?" He sternly asked, enouncing every single word slowly and carefully. "Do you think it's funny?" He continued, increasing his tone as he turned around to look at his mortified assistant. "What the fuck compelled you to play babysitter for Khal?" He asked, refraining himself from screaming.

Shaky handed, Flavia immediately reached for her phone under Eric's questioning eyes, and looked for the video she had taken earlier that day as she walked over to him. She simply placed the device in his hand and pressed play before she sat down on one of the chairs and stared at the floor.

"Oh my God!" Was all Eric could say as the images played before his eyes and a look of disdain and disgust creped upon his face.

"What was I supposed to do? Allow this creep to take off with a child? When I intervened, I had no idea who she was, but had I known, I obviously still would have done the same thing." She said as Eric turned his gaze to her.

"You did the right thing. I'm sorry I snapped like that." He began as he set the device on the desk. "Have her parents been notified? Is Khal on his way here?" He asked with a hint of panic cracking his voice.

The billionaire felt relief when his assistant shook her head.

"Her phone is dead and we can't charge it since it's an apple, and you and I have androids. I do have an idea though. Although Ayala was out with her mother before they lost each other, she said her father stayed behind at the resort. We were all handed access cards to get into our rooms, VIP sections of the resort and to pay at the bar-" Flavia began.

"You're right! That means that the hotel's management is probably able to track each and every one of us!" Eric exclaimed, interrupting his assistant.

"Exactly, you got it. I'm going to give Marlene a call immediately. While I do that, how about you go properly get acquainted with Ayala?"

"It sounds like a plan." He replied as he walked to the door.

As her boss walked out the boardroom, Flavia immediately grabbed her phone off the desk and called Marlene.

"Coco Palm Beach resort, Marlene speaking. How may I be of assistance?" Marlene greeted.

"Hi Marlene, this is Flavia. I have a big favour to ask you." Flavia said, totally sounding nervous.

"I'll certainly do my best to accommodate you. Is the suite to your liking?" Marlene said with concern in her voice; no one wanted Mr. Eric Cartman to be displeased.

"The suite is perfect and your service is impeccable as usual. What I'm about to ask you will seem strange, but I have a good reason for it. Can you track Mr. Stotch's wedding guests using their access passes?" Flavia asked, hoping Marlene wouldn't think she's a crazy stalker.

"Of course I can! You are looking for someone?" Marlene slyly replied

"Yes! I am looking for Kyle Broflovski." Flavia exclaimed.

"Let's see: according to the system, he last used his card about fifteen minutes ago at the beach bar. Do you want me to ask my staff members to look for him?"

"Yes! Please do, if it's not too much to ask."

"Very well, I'm on it. I'll call you as soon as I know something and I'll keep tracking Mr. Broflovski's card."

"Thanks for your help Marlene. Mr. Stotch is lucky to have you."

"He knows." Marlene replied with laughter before hanging up.

Flavia breathed a sigh of relief when she hung up; If Mr. Broflovski had used his card only fifteen minutes prior, he most certainly was still at the resort. She was about to get up and make her way back to the living room to check up on Ayala and on her boss when her mobile started buzzing. Excited at the idea that Marlene might have already traced the little girl's father, Flavia quickly checked her device only to see that it was only the hair salon. She quickly confirmed the appointments that she had scheduled for herself and for Tiffany as she walked to the door. As her hand rested on the doorknob, her phone buzzed again, only this time it was a phone call from none other than Tiffany, and when Flavia saw her name on the caller ID, she gasped; Tiffany was supposed to be on her father's jet, on her way to Hawaii, and Tiffany always slept on planes, especially on such a long flight from New York. She had a bad feeling about the motives of her call, especially since she could have called Eric directly.

"Hello Miss Trump, how can I be of assistance" She nervously answered.

* * *

"Ayala Broflovski, forgive my previous reaction. It was less than charming. How about we start over?" Eric said to the redhead that was sitting on the couch as he walked towards her.

The little girl turned around to face the billionaire, all wide eyed and smiley. She had removed her hat; therefore the mass of red curls followed her head movements perfectly as she eagerly nodded. Eric hadn't seen hair like that since Michael, and the memory of the young male escort, and what he and Flavia had to do to him subsequently made his heart sink. Eric's jaw dropped when the little redhead confidently walked over to him and extended her hand, which he took. For such a small child, Cartman was impressed by her firm handshake and the fact that she looked at him dead in the eye. He found the tiny human to be quite intimidating, but it was to be expected; she was Kyle's daughter after all.

"It's nice to meet you Mr. Cartman." The little girl said with a smile on her face.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Broflovski. Please call me Eric." He said with a smirk as he broke off the hand shake.

The little girl looked up to the large man and bit her lips. It was apparent that she wished to say something, but was perhaps too shy to do so. Noticing that, Cartman rested his hand on her shoulder and guided her to sit on the couch next to him. He was hoping she'd open up that way, but all the girl was doing was wiggling her legs like the excited child that she was.

"What is it?" He asked, finally breaking the ice.

"I can't believe my daddy is friends with you! It's so cool!" She squealed as she jumped up, startling the Eric.

"Don't tell me you didn't know about that." Eric snickered.

"He never mentioned you, but he always looks you up online. I know 'cause one time, he left his browser opened and he had like, twenty different tabs opened about you." The child said with glee.

Eric's heart skipped a beat and he felt his blood rush to his cheeks. Learning that the Jew had some sort of obsession for him, and the source of this new information being his own daughter, a little part of Cartman rejoiced.

"So, tell me; how has Kahl been?" Eric asked, wanting to know more about his old flame.

"He's been OK, I guess. He's always locked up in his study, working or..." She said as she lowered her eyes to the ground, never finishing her sentence.

"I'm not surprised." Eric giggled. "Kahl was always very hard working." He said as he suppressed tears of nostalgia from rising.

"I guess..." Ayala sighed, her eyes still fixed on the ground.

"What's the matter?" Eric asked, noticing the child's drastic change of mood.

"I think daddy hates all of us." She replied after a moment of silence.

"No way! What makes you think that?" He gasped.

"He barely knows we exist. He's never around, and when he is, he rarely talks to us. He thinks I don't know, but he drinks. He drinks like, all the time. And mom, I'm pretty sure she hates him back. I don't remember them ever kissing, or holding hands. And I know mom hates me; the only person she cares about is Adam." She finally blurted out, tears rising in her eyes.

Instinctively, Cartman drew in the child and held her in his arms, gently patting her red curls. He was shocked and dismayed with what the child had told him. Kyle and his family looked like the picture perfect, American dream family. He had no idea how to take the news: the rational part of him didn't want to get involved, since it was none of his business, but the emotional part of him wanted to confront Kyle to figure out what was going on and help him. That same emotional side figured that Kyle wasn't happy with Rebecca, just as he had predicted years prior when he tried to stop his wedding.

The sound of the boardroom's door opening pulled Eric out of his thoughts. He turned to his assistant who was standing in the doorway, looking pale and tired, and he realized she had been up for more than twenty four consecutive hours, and that she must have been beyond exhausted.

"Go to bed Flavia, You've had a big day and you'll have another one tomorrow." He said, almost ordering her.

Flavia gave him a stern look as she shook her head then, she noticed the way that her boss was embracing the little curly haired girl, which softened her face ever so slightly.

"What is it? Did you speak with Marlene?" He asked with worry.

"Yes, and she'll call us the moment they find Mr. Broflovski, but that's not our main concern-"Flavia started

"What do you mean?" Cartman abruptly said, interrupting his assistant.

"Tiffany just cancelled for tomorrow." Flavia blurted out.

Cartman gasped out of shock: He didn't know whether he should be happy about the news or not.

"Why?" Eric asked incredulously while his assistant grabbed her phone from her desk.

"After she initially called me, and I couldn't understand a single word she was saying because she was sobbing, slurring and lisping, which I know for a fact she doesn't do normally. Eventually, she hung up and texted me that she was undergoing… medical complications." Flavia, clearly annoyed.

"She's having medical complications from what? From a reverse lobotomy?" Eric blurted out with a giggle.

"She got her lips injected and her whole face ended up getting swollen and it's not too pretty." Flavia added with a sigh.

"Are you kidding me? That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard." Eric exclaimed.

"That's what I thought too until she sent me a picture. I promised her that I wouldn't let you see it."

"Show me!" Eric ordered.

Against her better judgement, Flavia obliged and walked over to hand her phone to Eric, who immediately started cracking up when he saw how horrible his girlfriend looked. Her eyes were red and puffy from all the crying she had done, her lips and jaw were swollen and bruised from the injection, and on top of it she wasn't wearing an ounce of makeup. Ayala, who hadn't uttered a single word, looked horrified by what she saw.

"Eric, don't laugh at her! She's probably in a lot of pain!" Ayala said, reprimanding the billionaire.

"You're absolutely right. I'm sorry." Eric said after abruptly ceasing his mocking, troubled by the déjà-vu of the situation.

"It's not me you should be sorry to!" Ayala screeched.

"Do we know if it's permanent, Flavia?" Eric asked, trying to get over the fact that Ayala had just put him back at his place, just like her father would've.

"The swelling should go down in the next few weeks and in a month this will only be a bad memory, but in the meantime, you have no date for tomorrow night and there's no way on Earth I can find a replacement on such short notice." The blonde said as she felt panic rise in her chest.

"You can be my date." He slyly replied.

"What? Eric! I was supposed to stay here, rest and keep an eye on the ring tomorrow. I was going to, you know, relax for once."

"Just wear the ring and enjoy the wedding."

"I have nothing decent to wear!"

"Wear the dress you ordered for fat lips; you seem to be about the same size."

"Fat lips?" Flavia asked perplexed until she realized who her boss was talking about. "Hey! That's not nice, Eric!"

"So that Trump girl is your girlfriend, right?" Ayala asked.

"Soon to be fiancée, to be more precise; Mr. Cartman was going to propose at the brunch." Flavia butted in just as Eric was about to reply.

"So if you want to marry her, why are you so cruel to her?" Ayala asked, very confused.

"Because... he likes to bug her, that's all!" Flavia interjected just in case her boss was going to say something stupid.

Their petty argument was disrupted by Flavia's phone ringing; it was Marlene. The blonde assistant was hoping she had been able to locate Ayala's father and that he was being brought to the suite, regardless of her boss' feelings towards the whole ordeal. She was so tired and so exhausted that all she wished for, all she desired was to take a shower and go straight to bed.

"Flavia Fornari, P.A. for Eric Cartman." She said, sounding professional despite her poor mood.

"Hi Flavia, it's Marlene. I'm with Mr. Broflovski and we're on our way to Mr. Cartman's suite. Expect us in about five minutes or so."

"Excellent news, Marlene! I'm looking forward to your arrival." Flavia exclaimed, excited by the news.

As soon as he heard Flavia's words, Cartman gasped and grew paler by the second as he watched her hang up and put her mobile away. He could hear his accelerated pulse in his head and he could feel his stomach tightening by the mere thought that he'd soon be face to face with the man that left his heart in shambles all these years ago. Kyle was on his way to collect his daughter, the little girl who had just opened up about how dysfunctional her family truly was and that was crying in Eric's arms just moments prior. Flavia quickly noticed her boss's distress and knew that she had to do something about it.

"Mr. Cartman, Marlene and Mr. Broflovski are on their way. May I advise you start getting ready? The rehearsal dinner starts in roughly an hour, and you haven't even showered yet." Flavia said, giving Eric the opportunity to remove himself from an awkward situation.

"Flavia, you are absolutely correct. I'll be in the shower." He said before turning to Ayala. "Miss Broflovski, it was a pleasure to meet you. I wish it had been under less stressful circumstances, but I am looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow at the wedding. Please, do send my regards to your father and if it's not too much to ask, let him know I am looking forward to seeing him as well." He said to the child, making her giggle.

"Stop talking in super formal way Mr. Cartman. Who do you think you are? The King of the USA? I'm a kid, you know!" Ayala exclaimed, incapable of suppressing her laughter.

Cartman was astonished by the little girl's audacity, and Flavia was trying her best not to giggle at the fact that a child had just given her boss a reality check. Both were shocked by her epic foresight. Eventually, Cartman just took a deep breath, telling himself to let it go.

"Fine, I'll see you tomorrow, kiddo. Tell your dad I say what's up." He said, flashing a peace sign at the little redhead before heading to the bathroom.

"That's better Mr. C." The little girl said loudly as Cartman disappeared in his room.

Moments later, there was a knock on the door.

* * *

"What are you doing, still up?" Eric asked as he undid his tie.

Although she had heard him come back, she didn't bother to get rid of the cigarette she was smoking on the balcony. It could have been the fatigue; it could have been the emotionally charged day; or it could have been that her mind started racing the moment she came face to face with Kyle Broflovski when he arrived to collect his child and she saw the train wreck that he truly was.

Part of her wanted to punch the man; when he first arrived, he seemed disoriented and his speech was slurred, but at least he was genuinely concerned about Ayala. Then, he had the brilliant idea of calling his screeching wife. Kyle's wife was hysterical and she was screaming so loudly that Flavia was able to hear all about her incoherent nonsense and how she was convinced that Ayala had deliberately stayed behind and lured the paedophile to get attention. Flavia was expecting Ayala's father to snap at the cunt he was married to, but instead, she had to watch him interrogating the little girl at the request of his spouse, asking her why she didn't stay right behind her mother as they roamed the strip. He gave Ayala shit because his wife missed her hairdresser appointment since she was busy and desperate looking for her.

Although furious, Flavia managed to keep her cool throughout Kyle's phone conversation, the moment he hung up, she took the opportunity to give him the description of the events she had witnessed. She took him to the boardroom to do so, leaving Ayala in the living room where she could watch television, and took the time to show him the footage she had taken. She recalled Kyle's face as it went pale when he saw the creep dragging his daughter. She saw the tears streaming down his cheeks once the video was over and he turned to her to thank her for saving his daughter. He would have pressed charges against the aggressor right away, but he wished to discuss matters with his wife first. Flavia was exasperated by his passive nature. Kyle Broflovski was nothing like what Eric had described to her! She was expecting someone with more pep, someone with more spunk. Instead, he was a slurring hallow shell of a man that smelled like the bottom of a frat party keg.

She spent close to an hour trying to convince him to go to the police station and get the process started, an hour trying to make him understand that the paedophile was probably going to try doing the same thing to another child. She tried to make him see that although his daughter was saved from that creep, it was his civic duty to press charges and get that ass hole off the streets, but all he could do was whine about the fact that his wife was going to be cranky because she didn't get to have her hair done. That's when Flavia remembered about the appointments that she had confirmed earlier that day, and she immediately offered him to give his wife the time slot that she had booked for Tiffany. He thanked her and took her up on her offer, knowing that it could have been a great way to pacify his wife.

By the time she was done talking with Kyle, Eric had already left for the rehearsal party and Ayala had fallen asleep in front of the television. By the time she walked the Broflovskis out of the suite, Flavia no longer felt like sleep would come easy.

"I couldn't sleep." Flavia answered as she exhaled some smoke under her boss's incredulous eyes.

"When did you start smoking again? I thought you had quit for good!" Eric asked, frustrated. "You know I fucking hate the smell of cigarettes! Get rid of that shit at once!"

"Your Kyle's a little bitch." She answered with no hint of emotion in her voice, completely ignoring Eric's question, and just staring in the void.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Eric asked, visibly aggravated.

"Exactly that: he's a little cunt" She reiterated. "The guy you fell for all these years ago; the man you described to me when we first met; the one who refused to give you a chance... He's Gone, Eric." She continued as she flung the cigarette out of her hand, letting it land on the dirt below the balcony.

"I'm not quite sure I understand..." Eric said with a look of confusion on his face.

"He's spineless and he treated Ayala like she was responsible for what happened to her. His screeching bitch of a wife was more concerned over the fact that she missed her hair appointment than her daughter almost getting abducted and used as a sex toy by some creep. Oh, and he showed up completely drunk; I could smell the beer all over him." She saw the pain on her boss's face as right before he sighed, sat down and held his head in his hands. "I let his wife have Tiffany's appointment at the salon to have her shut up. I swear to God Eric, I would have punched her if she had been in front of me."

"Say no more; I knew it! I fucking knew it years ago! I knew Kyle would be miserable with her. Earlier, when I was alone with his daughter, she confirmed what I feared would happen to him! Ayala practically told me that he's an alcoholic and that there's no love in that home, not even for her." Eric bitterly said.

"I'm not surprised to say the least. I'm glad you didn't see him; it would have broken your heart. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow." Flavia added as she got up and wobbled around a bit.

Cartman looked at the blonde: she was normally so poised; she always presented herself in such a professional way and carried herself with pride and confidence. Instead, she was disheveled; her makeup had been running, making the dark circles under her eyes even more apparent and she looked as though she was going to collapse at any moment. Eric had a habit of pushing her to the limit, and she always exceeded his expectations. Flavia could take pressure, but today had been over the top. She had been up much longer than any human being should, rescued a child from a potential rapist while carrying a dangerously expensive jewel, went through the hassle of locating the child's father who turned out to be Kyle, dealt with his obnoxious girlfriend's meltdown and watched a child getting yelled at because she lost her mother in a crowd. His assistant needed to rest.

"Alright Flavia, let's take you to bed, shall we?" He said as he got up and gently took her arm.

Flavia didn't resist and followed her boss into her bedroom where he took off her jewelry and untied her hair. He kissed her goodnight and closed the door behind him, leaving her to undress and change into her nightgown alone. In the past decade, she had done the same thing for him countless times and had taken care of him the same way. It was his turn to give back what he had taken so many times.

He searched the mini-bar for some cognac and went back with it to the balcony, not even bothering to pour it in a glass. His mind was on Kyle. He hated knowing that Kyle had such a shitty family life, and although Cartman was deliberately going to put himself in a similar situation with Tiffany, at least she would help him reach his goal. But he kept wondering what motivation drove Kyle to marry that woman, and worst yet, to stay with her and put up with her crap. He wanted to help him, but he was asked to stay out of his life a decade prior. He was starting to wonder if it was time to break the vow he had taken. He sat there quietly, sipping on the tiny bottle, pondering upon what he should do. To interfere, or not to interfere?


	6. Big sister is watching you

Kyle was relaxing by the beach, sipping on cold beer and listening to the sound of the waves and seagulls. He was relaxing and minding his own business when one of the bartenders nudged him on the shoulder and asked him for his name. A few moments later, Butters' assistant showed up and asked him to follow her because Eric Cartman's assistant had to speak with him urgently. His throat immediately tightened when he heard that name. He got up, and asked Marlene why Cartman's assistant needed to see him only to find out that Marlene had no clue herself. Embarrassed by the prospect of Cartman seeing him in his beach ware, he asked Marlene if he could pass by his room and change into something more appropriate.

Kyle was slightly panicked as he approached the presidential suite: He had no idea what was going on, he had no clue whatsoever as to what Cartman wanted from him and on top of it he was pretty drunk. He was hoping to God he wouldn't make a fool out of himself in front of the tall brunet. To make matters worse, he had just realized that his mobile was on silent and that he had fourteen missed calls from his wife.

Marlene knocked on the door, and to his relief, a blonde woman who looked like she was having the worst day of her life answered it. The blonde thanked Marlene and let Kyle in before she introduced herself as Flavia Fornari, Eric's personal assistant. To make matters even more bizarre, his daughter, who was supposed to be with her mother, ran to him out of nowhere and embraced him. For a moment, Kyle wondered if that was reality or if he was in an alcohol induced coma and was experiencing hallucinations. He asked his daughter what she was doing there, and before he even got an answer from her, he recalled all the missed calls he had gotten from his wife and figured that it had something to do with Ayala. The child just stared at the floor, most likely too embarrassed to speak, so the woman explained to him that his daughter had gotten separated from his mother at the strip and that some guy tried to snatch her. His blood froze when he heard those words, and without thinking, he pulled out his phone while he embraced his child and called Rebecca who answered immediately.

His wife was raging and furious: she was livid about her husband not picking up his phone, she was pissed off about having to forego her hair appointment and when she found out about Ayala getting lost and almost getting kidnapped, she immediately accused the child of having it done on purpose. Kyle was too drunk to get a grip on the severity of the situation, and he instinctively took Rebecca's side. He remembered how much crap he had given Ayala while he was on the phone trying to deal with his wife. By the time he had hung up, Ayala was quietly sobbing and the blonde lady's face was scarlet. She went to his daughter and crouched, getting herself to her level, and softly asked her to go watch television while she'd have a chat with her father. She sternly asked Kyle to follow her to the boardroom, and nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to find out.

* * *

"Mr. Broflovski, I appreciate the fact that you came by so promptly. I wish we could have met under better circumstances." The blonde said as she closed the door behind her. "Please take a seat."

"Listen, Ma'am, I apologize for the trouble you had to go through because of my daughter. I promise she will be dealt with as soon as my wife comes back. So if you don't mind, I'll take her so we can be on our way." Kyle said, still standing up, trying his best not to slur of wobble.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't think you understand the severity of what your daughter went through today. She was in a state of shock and panic when I found her, and I would appreciate if you listened to what I have to say. Once again, I'll ask you to take a seat." She replied harshly as she pointed to the chair.

That time around, Kyle finally complied. The first thing Flavia showed him was the footage she took when she confronted the lowlife. Kyle felt his stomach turn when he saw the horror of what his daughter lived through. Tears streamed down his face and he immediately regretted yelling at Ayala the way he did; it was his stupid wife's entire fault.

"Thank you for saving her." He accidentally slurred. "I had no idea it was that bad."

"Mr. Broflovski, I honestly believe that you should press charges. I offer my full cooperation as a witness to catch that piece of scum." She replied, a look of relief on her face.

"I would go to the police right away, but I think it'd be best if I discussed this with my wife before we do anything." He replied without slurring.

"Sir, you can't possibly be serious! If he tried to kidnap your daughter, it's logical to assume that he's done it before and that he'll most likely do it again. For the sake of public safety, please press charges." She implored.

"Ma'am, I know. You and I agree on this, but I can't go and do something like that behind my wife's back, especially not when she's this angry." He reiterated as calmly as he could.

"I'm sure your wife will understand once she sees with her own eyes in how much danger Ayala was in." Flavia desperately said, hoping the drunken man in front of her would see the light.

"You don't know my wife; my children and I will hear her whine and complain about today's events for weeks." He whimpered.

"What do you mean?" She asked, stunned.

"My wife is vain and to her, looking her best is very important. Believe me; she was very upset that she missed that appointment at the salon. She had booked it a month ago, and she was really looking forward to it." He admitted, visibly ashamed by his wife's shallow behaviour.

"You're basically admitting to me that she is more concerned with her hair than with the safety of her own child?" Flavia rhetorically asked with disgust very apparent on her face.

Kyle sighed and fixed his gaze on the floor, unable to look at the blonde in the eyes. His head was spinning, but it wasn't out of drunkenness. Flavia's testimony, as well as the video drastically sobered him up. He was feeling dizzy out of guilt: Ayala didn't want to go shopping with her mother that day, and would have rather spent the afternoon with him, but he chose to booze up alone at the beach instead of spending time with her.

"I booked appointments for myself and Mr. Cartman's girlfriend at a high end salon for tomorrow. If it can convince your wife to press charges, I will gladly give her Miss Trump's timeslot." Flavia said as she grabbed a paper pad from the desk she was sitting at and started to scribble the name and address of the place. "Here, tell her to show up in the lobby for ten o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll make the necessary arrangements for a taxi to be there waiting for her free of charge, of course." She added after she tore the sheet from the pad and handed it to Kyle.

Kyle was speechless as he took the piece of paper. He was hoping his wife would be happy and thankful for Flavia's kind gesture so she'd get off Ayala's case. He was hoping his wife would stop being irrational and go with him to the police station in order to press charges against his daughter's aggressor.

"Thank you." He said as he took the piece of paper. "Could I ask you for a copy of the video as well, so I can show it to my wife and bring it to the police station?" He added.

"Well, certainly!" She answered, finally smiling. "Here, I want you to have my contact info in case the cops need me as a witness to prosecute that piece of crap. If you need a lawyer, Mr. Cartman will spare no expense." She exclaimed as she got a business card out of a document holder that lingered on the desk.

Kyle felt a dark cloud hovering over him at that moment. He and Cartman grew up together; they went to high school and college together. Cartman knew what Kyle studied at Harvard; heck, he used to mock Kyle all the time for going in the same line of business as his father.

"Ma'am, I am a lawyer. I own a firm in South Park." He said a little sad and annoyed.

Flavia nervously giggled. That omission was a reminder of just how tired she was, and how much she needed to rest.

"My apologies. Mr. Cartman told me all about you, many years ago. I don't know how something that obvious slipped my mind. I must direly need some sleep." She said.

"Then why would he want to get me a lawyer? Did he forget that we went to school together?" He asked with a hint of offence in his voice.

"Mr. Broflovski, I am sorry that I offended you. My boss never even brought up the idea of getting you a lawyer. It was my idea and I know for a fact that Mr. Cartman would have approved of it." She declared, clearly embarrassed by her faux pas.

"Well, that's very kind of you, but it won't be necessary." He sighed as he got up. "I think it's time for Ayala and I to be on our way." He continued.

"Naturally, let me walk you out." Flavia said as she got up and headed for the door.

"If I may ask, where's Cartman?" Kyle nervously asked the blonde he was following.

"He must have just left to go to the rehearsal dinner." She said after quickly glancing at her wrist watch.

The two of them found Ayala fast asleep in front of the television. She woke up right away when her father gently nudged her. Flavia escorted them to the door where they bid goodbye to each other.

"Thank you very much for everything you've done for my daughter. We owe you big time." Kyle said to Flavia.

"Yeah, thank you Flavia! You're awesome!" Ayala added.

"It was a pleasure. And please Mr. Broflovski, I beg you to press charges, regardless of what your wife says or believes, for Ayala's sake." Flavia asked for the last time that night.

* * *

Rebecca and Adam were back to the hotel room when Kyle and Ayala arrived. She was sitting on the couch and playing with her son, and although her voice seemed sweet and gentle, Kyle could feel that her mood hadn't improved since they last had spoken.

"Honey, could you ask your daughter to keep an eye on Adam while we discuss how she will be punished for her reckless behaviour?" She coldly asked him.

"I'm right here..." Ayala whimpered.

"Rebecca, please be reasonable-" Kyle calmly started to reply.

"Kyle, tell your daughter to keep an eye on her brother and to try not to run away like the little delinquent that she is this time." She reiterated, just as bitterly.

"Let's go to our room." Kyle replied to his unmoved wife, trying very hard not to lose his cool.

"Keep an eye on Adam for a bit. I need to knock some sense into your mother's little head." He told Ayala as he gently pat her shoulders.

Ayala smiled at him, glad that someone finally took her side for once. Kyle, on the other hand, turned his attention to the harpy he was married to; she looked even more livid than she did before, and truth be told, embarrassing her in front of the children made him feel better than all the alcohol in the world. The bitch was completely speechless as she watched her husband looking at her with more disdain than usual.

"You're right Rebecca; we do need to discuss some things. I even have something to show you, and if you're really, really nice, you'll get to have your hair done, free of charge, at the most high end salon in all of Hawaii. Won't you be a darling and follow me to our room?" Kyle said to his wife, his voice dripping with sweet poisoned honey.

Rebecca gasped and stared at her husband as though she had had an aneurism and he looked right back at her with contempt. She broke the gaze first, only to set it on her daughter who looked back at her with a smug smirk. She felt heat gradually rising in her face before she set her eyes back on her husband who was pointing at the door of the bedroom they were sharing. Defeated, she slowly walked to her husband and followed him into the room while her children stared at her. Her husband had humiliated her in the past, but never in front of her kids. She could feel rage flooding her mind as Kyle closed the door behind them and she sat on the bed.

"How could you have been so careless?" Kyle asked.

"Don't you dare take her side, Kyle! She deliberately stopped following me. I was speaking to your mother and then next thing I knew, that little brat was gone!" She spat right back at him.

"Don't give me that bullshit! Ayala told me that she stopped for a few seconds to look at cupcakes and that you just kept walking." He sighed.

"I was on the phone!" She yelled.

"For fuck's sake, Rebecca! She's eight years old. You're her mother and you are responsible for her safety. You're supposed to be her caregiver and to pay attention to her. She could have gotten abused and raped by a freak, Rebecca! You're accountable for this!" He yelled back.

"Oh, please Kyle! Give me a break... You don't actually believe her bullshit! You know she likes to make stuff up!" Rebecca replied with condescension.

Kyle looked at her, flabbergasted by her lack of critical thinking. Without breaking his gaze, he slid his hand in his pocket and retrieved his mobile phone. He searched for the footage Flavia had sent him a little earlier.

"I told you I had something to show you, you remember, right?" He said, handing the device to his wife. "I want you to see the consequence of your incompetence as a mother."

Kyle was eager to see Rebecca's reaction to the video, but unfortunately for him, she had none. Her expression remained stone cold throughout the video that made him want to throw up a little earlier.

"She asked for it the moment she stopped following me, Kyle. This is one hundred percent her fault, not mine." She said in a tone that was empty of any emotion as she handed the device back to her husband.

"Am I to understand that you won't come with us to the police station then?" Kyle asked her in disbelief.

"I have better things to do." She bitterly replied after a brief moment of silence.

Kyle closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn't believe he married such a mean, heartless person. He felt his blood boil and he knew he had to get away from her before he'd do something he'd regret later on.

"Very well then, do as you please. Here, this is for you. Although you don't deserve this, have fun getting your hair done tomorrow. Be in the lobby for ten o'clock. A cab will be waiting for you." He said, throwing the note Flavia had penned down for Rebecca. "Oh, and just so that we're clear, I'll sleep in the Murphy bed with Ayala." He said, turning around and grabbing the doorknob.

"You cannot be serious. Where-" She started.

"I'm dead serious!" He interrupted Rebecca as he turned to face her. "The mere thought of being in the same room as you makes me want to vomit." He continued, his face distorted by anger, as he looked at his now mortified wife dead in the eye.

Rebecca didn't reply. She was under shock as she watched her husband regain his composure and walk out the room. She overheard him calling the reception desk to have a cab called for him. By the time her shock started to subside and she had the power to get up and head for the door, she saw Kyle and Ayala exit the room. She was shaking inside and she couldn't get over the fact that her husband went against her and backed up a trouble maker instead.

By the time Kyle and his daughter boarded the cab that would take them to the police station, he was fully sober. He was still shaking with anger, and was sorry that his children had to overhear the major fight he just had with Rebecca. Although he felt bad for the kids, he had no regrets about anything he said to her. The bitch had to be put back in her place, and he took Flavia's advice and went against his wife's wishes.

* * *

Kyle and Ayala were exhausted by the evening they just had. They had spent a couple of hours at the police station where they followed the standard procedures and reported what had occurred earlier in the afternoon. Kyle gave them a copy of the footage he had obtained from Flavia and gave them her contact info. Kyle could see the exhaustion on his daughter's face as they left once their file was opened. Realising that they hadn't eaten yet, Kyle took his daughter to McDonalds, hoping that the yummy greasy foods would cheer her up. By the time came back to the hotel room, it was quite late; Rebecca and Adam were already in sleeping in the bedroom with the door closed. To Kyle's relief, his wife had the decency of leaving out a night gown for Ayala as well as pyjamas for him. Ayala promptly changed into her night gear and kissed her father goodnight. She fell asleep almost immediately.

As tired as he was, Kyle couldn't find sleep. His body was craving alcohol; his taste buds were craving scotch and for a little while, he was tempted to sneak out and head to the bar, but he wisely decided to stay in the room, opening the mini bar instead. The selection wasn't that great, but he made due with the Johnny Red tiny bottles that he found; it tasted like crap, but it was better than nothing.

He made his way to the tiny balcony and sat down, taking the time to gaze at the stars. He hadn't observed the stars in that manner since he was in junior high school, back when him and his friends would set up a tent near Stark's Pond and spend the night playing games and telling each other creepy, spooky stories.

Kyle needed to think, and he needed to figure a couple of things out. The way Rebecca reacted was absolutely unacceptable and downright dangerous. Kyle genuinely feared for his daughter's safety if she was to be left alone with her mother. While he was arguing with his wife earlier in the evening, he got a vibe from her that chilled him to the core. It was as though she wanted something horrible to happen to Ayala. The fact that she didn't even flinch while she watched footage of her daughter being dragged in the streets by a man with a visible erection scared him and angered him to no avail. Had he not left the room at that moment, he would have physically hurt her.

After the third mini bottle of scotch, he had an epiphany. All the dislike and all the repulsion he felt for her had turned into pure, sheer hatred. He finally understood that he needed to take his little girl as far away as possible from the psychopathic bitch he was married to. It finally hit him that he could no longer stay in that relationship, but the problem was that he was trapped. He wanted to insure the safety of his child, but his experience as a lawyer taught him that it's impossible for an alcoholic parent to obtain full custody. Furthermore, Rebecca was very spiteful and he knew for a fact that if he divorced her, she would put him through hell and she would capitalize on the fact that any judge would grant her full custody of the children. All she had to do was describe his drinking habits. For the sake of his daughter, he couldn't divorce the bitch, not yet anyways. Kyle polished off the last of the small cheap scotch bottles, all seven of them, and headed to the Murphy bed to join his daughter.

* * *

Well rested at last, Flavia was quietly reading a magazine as she waited for the dye in her hair to set in, when chatty woman took the seat next to hers; she knew that was none other than Rebecca Broflovski, but she had no intention of divulging who she was to her, not yet at least. She wanted to observe how the woman behaved when she believed that she could speak freely.

She was proud of the fact that Kyle wasn't as much of a pussy as she assumed him to be the previous night. Before she came to the salon, Flavia already knew that Kyle and Ayala had gone to the police station in order to press charges. In fact, the police had reached her earlier that day and asked her to swing by the police station to give her official version of the facts. She knew that she was going to be a key witness in the attempted kidnapping that took place the day before. No words could describe how alleviated her mood was after that phone call, and how she was looking forward to make that deposition. She had also asked Eric to put a bounty on that creep's head to facilitate his arrest, an idea that he totally supported.

"I had such a lousy day yesterday; let me tell you all about it!" Mrs. Broflovski exclaimed to the polite but less than interested hairdresser. "It's my pesky daughter's fault and to make things worse, my husband is taking her side. I'm telling you, he's not a real man." She continued, failing to notice the horror on the blonde lady's face.

Flavia discretely set the magazine down and instead pulled out her phone and switched the camera on, turning herself ever so slightly so that Mrs. Broflovski's reflection in the mirror could be seen on the footage. Flavia was skillfully pretending to be texting and fiddling with her phone. After what occurred the previous day when Kyle came by to pick up his daughter, Flavia distrusted that woman, and took it upon herself to uncover whether she was a danger to Ayala or not. She was determined to expose her if she turned out to be an unfit mother.

"That child has been trouble since the moment she was born. Yesterday, she stopped following me while we were shopping at the strip and almost got abducted by some sort of paedophile. As horrible as it sounds, it would have been better for the rest of the family if that man did take off with her. I swear to God, ever since she came into this world, my relationship with my husband has been crumbling." Rebecca shamelessly said, not caring that her hairdresser and the blonde woman sitting next to her looked horrified by her cruel words.

"Thank God I have my little Adam." She continued, pulling out her phone to show pictures to the hairdresser. "That little boy is such a pleasure to have around. He's just like his father."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite sure I understand. A few moments ago, you were saying that your husband is not a real man, but now you just said that he was a pleasure to have him around..." The confused young hairdresser verbalized, clearly disturbed by what her client had just admitted.

"Oh, honey... my husband hasn't touched me in years. A woman had needs, you know." Rebecca replied to the gasping hairdresser. "My son's father is my husband's former best friend." She continued, seeming completely unremorseful for her adultery.

Flavia's jaw dropped as she looked up from her phone, setting her disgusted gaze on the psychotic woman. She just stared at her, flabbergasted by her confession. The fact that she cheated on her husband wasn't what bothered her; that was none of her business. It was the hatred she harboured for her daughter that she found incredibly deplorable.

"What are you looking at, missy?" Rebecca bluntly asked the blonde patron who was staring at her. "I know what you're thinking, but how dare you judge me? You don't know what it's like to have a husband that neglects you and ignores you constantly. You don't know what it's like to be feeling like a stranger in your own house, day after day! Do me a favour and keep texting whoever you were texting." Rebecca screeched to a less than impressed Flavia.

"If only you knew…" Flavia couldn't help but blurt out of shock over Ayala's mother's rudeness.

"Excuse me, what was that?" Rebecca asked, raising her tone.

Flavia immediately noticed that Rebecca's hairdresser was getting very uncomfortable and that other patrons were starting to discretely stare in her direction. For those reasons, she chose to drop the argument right there and then, for it wasn't the place or the time to tear the bitch a new one. Working in the world of business and finance had taught her one thing: pick your battles, and choose them wisely.

"Forgive me; I was talking to myself again." She nonchalantly replied.

Without lowering her eyes and forcing herself to grin gleefully, Flavia calmly locked her phone and slipped in the white purse on the station in front of her; she had obtained what she wanted from the harpy sitting next to her, and her own hairdresser was coming back to check how the dye was doing. Without saying another word, she grabbed the magazine she was reading moments prior and reopened it.

"That's better! Where was I, dear... Oh, yes! My husband is a piece of shit!" Rebecca went back to spewing her life to the poor hairdresser.

Flavia knew what she had left to do for that day: finish her current appointment; pick up the new dress she had bought that morning because in all fairness, she would have never worn a dress meant for Tiffany; make a deposition and go to a wedding with an eight million dollar ring on her finger. A new item was added to that list after she witnessed moments before since she was planning to show Eric that footage she had taken of Rebecca. She had a good idea of what Eric would ask her to do about it, but she had other plans for the unfit mother.

* * *

Kyle was holding his daughter's hand while his family walked to the gardens where the ceremony was to take place. His stomach was tied up in knots, but the good thing was that his wife hadn't said a single word to him since she came back from her hair appointment. Rebecca seemed more relaxed than she did the day before, but Kyle had a feeling that he wasn't off the hook just yet. His wife was a control freak, and he dared to disobey her therefore, he knew his life would be hell for a little while. He had a feeling she'd do anything in her power to humiliate him in front of all his childhood friends, including Eric Cartman and his assistant, and that thought made him slightly nauseous. Rebecca hadn't spoken a word to Ayala either, and Kyle could feel the stress that his little girl was going through by her body language; Ayala was a very outspoken child, but that day she had kept to herself and barely said anything. Adam, on the other hand, couldn't keep his mouth shut.

The Broflovskis eventually arrived on the site and Kyle saw that there was no more room to sit with his childhood friends who were already mingling. Not having a choice, the four of them sat close to Kenny's brother who seemed to already be stoned out of his mind. Kyle knew that Kevin started dealing drugs when he was in middle school, and never stopped since. He had gotten arrested a few times, but Kyle knew that he wasn't a bad person. No one in Kenny's family was bad per se; they were simply desperate to get through life. Moments after they Broflovski's sat down, music started to play and the ceremony started.

Butters was the first to make his entrance, with his parents walking him down the aisle, followed by the man that had haunted Kyle's thoughts for all these years. When he saw him, Kyle's heart started pounding in his chest. Eric looked magnificent! Kyle set his eyes on him and felt a swarm of butterflies rising in his gut. He was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and Kyle strongly regretted not having a drink before the wedding. As Cartman walked behind Butters and his parents, he glanced at Kyle and their eyes locked. Kyle's breath was taken away. Butters's parents kissed their son and when to sit at their assigned places, while Cartman stood next to his blond childhood friend and set his eyes on the redhead once more.

Next, it was Kenny's turn to make his entrance with his parents, while Tweek and his sister Kelly followed. Kyle didn't pay much attention to them, being too busy engaging in a staring contest with the brunet who was standing next to Butters. He felt a rush of blood to his cheeks when Cartman smiled at him and at that point, all his fears and worries vanished. The brunet was looking at him the same way he did in their college years. As the ceremony took place, Kyle never noticed that Tweek was having a panic attack in front of everyone. He didn't pay attention when Craig got up and went to hold his boyfriend's hand to mellow him out. He didn't hear a single vow that Kenny and Butters exchanged. All he saw was Eric Cartman.

The ceremony drew to an end, and Kyle had to snap out of his trance when everyone in the attendance started clapping and cheering at the newlyweds. The wedding party made their exit and row by row, the cheerful attendees followed them.

Rebecca let her husband and daughter pass in front of her before she picked up her little boy, who was bored out of his mind. As she followed everyone to go take the group picture, she noticed her and her blood froze. The blonde woman who gave her a dirty look at the hair salon was standing in front of the last row of chairs, dressed in a turquoise vintage chiffon dress, and was staring her down with a insolent smirk on her face. Rebecca immediately looked away, but she could feel the woman's stare on herself as she followed the group of people.

"Flavia!" Ayala screamed as she made her way through the people to run to the blonde who was waiting for her with open arms.

Rebecca's heart stopped when she saw her daughter jump in the blonde's arms, and then watched her husband greet and kiss her on the cheeks. Things started to fall into place; she must have been the woman who saved Ayala from a certain doom, and she knew everything she didn't want her husband to know. To her dismay, Kyle looked in her direction and waved her down to come meet the blonde. With a knot in her throat, she made her way down, never feeling so humiliated in her life, while the blonde smirked at her audaciously.

"Honey, this is Ms. Fornari, Eric Cartman's assistant. She saved our daughter's life." Kyle said with a smile on his face. "Ms. Fornari, this is my wife Rebecca, and my son Adam." He continued, finishing the formal introduction.

"Mrs. Broflovski, it's a pleasure to meet you!" Flavia said as smugly as she could and extending her hand to Rebecca and drawing her in to plant small pecks on her cheeks. "Hi Adam, I'm Flavia!" She said as she caressed the little boy's cheek.

Rebecca was internally panicking as Flavia was chatting and laughing with Kyle and Ayala.

"Mrs Broflovski, you're looking quite pale. Is everything alright?" Flavia asked in a voice dripping with honey.

Rebecca felt herself trembling on the inside and tried to take that opportunity to get as far away as possible from the blonde.

"I just feel extremely hot at the moment." She stated. "Kyle, could you please take Adam while I go to the washroom and refresh myself?" She asked her husband as she handed him the toddler.

"I'll come with you; you really don't look well." Flavia exclaimed as she rested her hand on Kyle's wife's shoulder.

Rebecca was furious that the blonde was following her, but there were too many people around to tell her off as she had done at the salon and she really didn't want to make a scene. Once they had walked away from the crowd sufficiently, Rebecca slapped Flavia's hand off her shoulder and gave her the look of death, only for Flavia to start laughing in her face.

"What's so funny? You think you're better than me?" Rebecca asked, almost spitting on Flavia.

Her words only made Flavia's laughter intensify.

"What are you going to do? Destroy my reputation?" Rebecca bitterly asked, only to get more laughter as a response. "You want to destroy my marriage?" She screeched.

Flavia's laughter eventually subsided and the blonde regained her composure.

"You don't need any help for that; you're doing a fine job on your own." She replied with contempt on her face as she watched Kyle's wife's face becoming redder by the second. "Don't worry; your secret is safe with me." She continued as Rebecca's face filled with confusion. "But my silence has a price; you are to stop treating your daughter like shit, or God be my witness, everyone will know how much of a psycho, cheating bitch you are." She finished.

Rebecca looked like a deer caught in headlights for a few moments before she regained her composure and she smirked at the blonde.

"Who would believe you anyways? It'd be your word against mine!" She answered triumphantly.

Flavia stared at the woman in front of her for a moment and sighed.

"You're absolutely right. Who would believe me? Let's see how I can prove that you're a cheating cunt... Oh! I know, DNA testing! That sounds like it would be pretty accurate." She said, pausing for a moment in order to pull her mobile out of her silver clutch. "As to prove that you're an unfit mother, everything you said at the salon has been recorded. I will stream this from Mr. Cartman's social media, where he has thousands of followers. Is that what you want?" She continued as she played the footage in front of Rebecca's mortified eyes. "Do we have a deal?" She finally asked.

Defeated, Rebecca looked up at Flavia and nodded. She knew that if that video went viral, she would be finished. Flavia smiled at her and patted her shoulder.

"I had a feeling that you could be reasonable!" Flavia chimed before she walked back to towards the wedding party, leaving the speechless and humiliated harpy behind.


	7. Stars and Fireworks

Eric had just spent close to an hour with the newlyweds, their parents and the other guests of honour having various pictures taken. He was really looking forward to order a well deserved dirty martini, with extra olives and a dash of olive juice; at the same time, he was nervous beyond belief. He knew damn well what was to follow, but he had no clue how he'd deal with it, and there was nothing Eric Cartman dreaded more than uncertainty.

When the group finally got to the doors of the hall, the guests that were already inside were asked to welcome the procession. The Parents of the newlyweds were the first to be called, and then it was Cartman's turn to walk in. As he walked to the table of honour, his eyes quickly searched and found Flavia, whom was oddly enough standing next to Ayala, who was standing next to her father. Rebecca, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. Flavia had the most self satisfied smirk on her face as she clapped and cheered.

Once Cartman stood where he was supposed to and as he waited for the rest of the procession to make their entrance, he felt as though someone was staring at him. He quickly realised that Kyle was staring at him instead of paying attention to the people coming in. He rested his eyes on his emerald beauties and the two of them went back to their staring contest. Eric had no idea what was going on in Kyle's mind, but for him it was as though everything else disappeared and that nothing existed but him and Kyle.

The blissful moment ended when Flavia stepped in front of the redhead with her cell phone in hand, about to snap a picture and at the same time signaling her boss with her eyes to pay attention to what was going on in front of him. As a matter a fact, the photographer was making his way to the table to take what would be the final formal picture until the cutting of the cake. Once the picture was taken, Cartman was finally a free man and he started to walk in his assistant's direction as she walked towards him simultaneously.

Cartman was really curious to find out where Kyle's wife was and he was about to ask his assistant, but Flavia had other matters on her mind.

"You and Kyle really need to stop eye fucking each other like that. People are gonna notice." She whispered in his ear.

"I was that obvious?" He nervously asked right after he gulped.

Flavia didn't even dignify his question with an answer. She sighed, crosser her arms and gave him what Cartman called _the look._

"Wait a second: Kyle, Eye fucking me? Did you just say that it-" He started to whisper, incredulous.

"Mr. C!" Ayala screamed as she ran to him jumped on him, wrapping her arms as much as she could around his shoulders, giving him very little time to catch her correctly thus making him stumble back a couple of steps as he made sure not to drop her.

Many people who were standing nearby and saw the multi-billionaire almost fall on his ass gasped, while Flavia just chuckled and Kyle just stared out of mortification. Once Cartman was a little more stable on his feet, he just laughed it off and tightly hugged the little girl, much to Kyle's relief.

"Hello there, Ayala! Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, looking around to all the people round him as he held the child, "that's how you greet someone properly!"

Most of the onlookers giggled nervously before getting in line to congratulate the newlyweds while the rest went back to doing whatever they were doing previously. With the little redhead still in his arms, he closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath and turned around to face his assistant as well as the man that he had been obsessed with for most of his life. The first step he took in their direction was the most difficult thing he had done that day and as the distance between them narrowed, Eric's anxiety grew until he was standing only a few feet away from them. The redhead and the brunet locked eyes once more, for a few more moments before Flavia, clearly annoyed by her boss's lack of discretion, started to cough quite loudly thus making Eric snap out of his trance.

"Take a picture, it will last longer." He blurted out without thinking as he finally put the little girl down.

"Well, hello to you too, fat ass!" Kyle immediately reiterated.

"Hai! I'm not fat, you fucking Jewish ass hole!" Cartman replied, frustrated, raising his voice and attracting the attention of surrounding people.

"Don't you belittle my people, you fat fuck!" Kyle immediately snapped back, also raising his tone as more and more people stared at them.

The two childhood rivals just kept going at it, like they used to when they were younger. Butters and Kenny were both glaring at them; Token and Wendy looked at each other and sighed, more out of annoyance than out of surprise. Craig raised his middle finger in their general direction before Tweek shrieked and grabbed his boyfriend's hand into his, hoping no one else noticed the rude gesture.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stan said from the line in front of the newly married couple. "I thought they'd be passed that by now!" He continued while he buried his face in his palm as Bebe rested her hand on his shoulder.

"Stop it! That's enough! You're making a scene!" Ayala said loudly as she put herself between the rivals, determined to stop whatever was going on between the two of them.

Cartman was the first of the two to back off, a little embarrassed by the fact that almost all eyes in the room were looking in their direction. He scanned his surroundings for his assistant to only to find her giving him _the look_ once more. She then sighed and walked up to him, gently grabbing him by the arm.

"Mr Cartman, I'd like to have a word in private if I may, now that the heartfelt salutations are out of the way." She asked with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

While most guests glared at them, she led him out of the hall and out of the building just to make sure no one would overhear what she had to tell him. Cartman had the feeling that she was going to give him a load of crap.

"What the hell was that all about?" She growled as he blankly stared at her. "You're the best man at your good friend's wedding; act that way." She added in a softened tone.

"That's just how Kyle and I have always acted towards each other. I guess we both went overboard." He admitted.

"Listen, just have a little bit more self control; you're not a little kid anymore, you're the president and CEO of CF Corps. Why do you think people were looking at you and not at Mr. Broflovski as we walked out?" She rhetorically asked.

"Because I'm rich and famous and I should act like it." He flatly replied.

"On top of it, that's not presidential behaviour. If someone in there filmed the exchange you just had with Mr. Broflovski where you've used the term 'Jewish' pejoratively, people won't care that you and Kyle have known each other for all these years and that you're totally gay for each other! They'll assume you to be an anti-Semitic douche bag and they'll compare you to Hitler!" She added, weighing every single word she was saying.

Cartman gasped and blankly looked at his assistant. His eyes were as big as saucers and a look of sheer confusion overtook his face.

"Come again?" He mumbled.

"Hum, don't say anti-Semitic or otherwise intolerant slurs?" Flavia replied, not quite understanding why her boss would find that a difficult concept to understand.

"No, the other thing you said. Even before, you mentionned that Kyle was eye fucking me..." He said as sweat droplets were starting to gather on his forehead.

"Oh, that?" She started to giggle. "Isn't it obvious that he wants your cock as much as you want his? I'm pretty I wasn't the only one who noticed, just by the way you guys were looking at each other, it was pretty clear." She added, finally dropping her solemn attitude.

"But, it doesn't make any sense..." He breathed.

"Maybe, just maybe, you should talk to him in private and sort out what happened ten years ago." She proclaimed as she rested her hand on his shoulder.

"By the way, it's not that I care about it but, where the hell did Rebecca go? I'm pretty sure I saw her at the ceremony." He asked.

Flavia smirked; by the time she was back from the hair salon, Eric had already left the suite and gone off to his duties as best man. Flavia meant to let him know what she had learned, about the fact that Adam was an illegitimate child and that Rebecca secretly dreaded Ayala, but since the two women had that little chat earlier, she decided that then and there wasn't the appropriate place to discuss it further.

"I know she had hot flashes after the ceremony and she walked off. Why don't you ask Kyle for more details once we will be seated? Speaking of which, we should get going; you have a speech to give soon." She said as she rested her hand on his back walked back towards the building.

* * *

"Uh, hi everyone. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Tweek Tweak, and I grew up with both Kenny and Butters. I...I... I wish to thank everyone for making it to this very special day. Kenny and Butters go way back; I remember when we were still in elementary school and... And Butters needed to come here on a self exploration journey, and that Kenny went along with him. Kenny wrote many letters to us back in South Park, and, uh, when they came back, neither of them could shut up about this place." Tweek started his speech, his boyfriend Craig looking at him with pride in his eyes.

"Then, as all kids do, we... we grew up and graduated high school. That summer, our good friend Token threw the last summer bash before most of us went off to different colleges and got scattered all over the country." He continued, as the South Park guests cheered, reminiscent of the nostalgia from that memory brought back.

Tweek started to twitch and he froze like a deer caught in headlights, and as soon as he noticed, Craig got up and went to him.

"You'll be fine, babe..." Craig whispered with a smile as he gently held his boyfriend's hand and Tweek smiled back at him.

"The...The following day, Kenny came to see me and he told me that he and Butters had kissed at the party. He..." He continued, looking all around himself as his boyfriend gently squeezed his hand.

"He confessed that he liked it and that he didn't know what it meant, so I... I told him to go talk to Butters, but he didn't have the guts to do it. The summer drew to an end, and they went their separate ways until Christmas time a few years later where they bumped into each other in South Park. They... they finally talked things through and they've been together ever since." He said, recovering from his near panic attack.

Craig then ran off the small stage, headed to the bar where a bartender handed him a bag, and promptly brought it to Tweek.

"Butters, I...I have to thank you for convincing Kenny to stop wearing this ridiculous looking thing." He started, pulling Kenny's old orange parka and prompting people in the audience to laugh. "How many of us have tried to get him to stop wearing this thing?" He continued, gaining more self confidence while Craig was nodding in encouragement. "I guess it goes to show that where there's great love, there are always miracles. Kenny and Butters, I wish you all the happiness in this world, and I am asking everyone to raise their glass to their love. Cheers!" He concluded.

"Cheers! To the grooms!" The crowd chanted before drinking.

Tweek gave the orange parka to Craig, which he threw at Kenny who couldn't stop giggling, then, the two long time boyfriends walked off the small stage while the host of the evening declared that the cocktail was over and that it was time to go sit at the tables for the dinner was to be served shortly after.

* * *

Ayala was delighted when she found out that she was going to sit next to Flavia during the meal. What she didn't know was that it was Flavia herself who had asked Marlene to be seated next to Mrs Broflovski who had decided to retreat back to the hotel room that her family was renting, taking Adam with her.

Kyle was a little less pleased by the seating arrangement since he had been placed next to Stan. Everyone was seated to the table, with one exception: Eric Cartman. As a matter a fact, he was to give his speech right before the entrees were to be served.

While people were making small talk, Cartman was gulping down his second dirty martini before he was handed a champagne flute by one of the waiters. He knew that it was time for his speech and he walked over to the small stage.

"Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen. I promise I will do my best to behave this time around. First and foremost, I want to congratulate the two grooms: I wish you both a life filled with love and happiness. Secondly, I want to thank Tweek for the wonderfully touching speech he gave earlier; it was an amazing tribute to our newlyweds." He paused for a moment as the crowd was cheering.

"To be sincere, when I found out that they were tying the knot, I just thought 'It was about fucking time!' I was pleasantly surprised when Butters asked me to be his best man; the two of us went through a lot growing up." He resumed with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Butters is a sweet guy, but he can also have a tart side; I remember when we were kids, he started a movement called _wieners out_ and got most of the boys involved into it. I still remember how his parents reacted to it." He said before pausing.

"He got grounded for pressing pickle!" Mr Stotch yelled from the table of honour while Butters was blushing and the crowd started to laugh.

"Butters deserves the very best, which is why I am so happy he got Kenny, a man of many talents. Have any of you heard him sing? He sounds like an angel! I am happy we're all here to share their joy, but some guests couldn't make it, like my girlfriend Tiffany. She was supposed to come, but she had a medical emergency and had to cancel at the last second. Don't worry, she'll be fine and she's with us in spirit." He continued, suppressing a chuckle.

"As the Wizard of Westwood once said, 'passion is momentary, but love is enduring'. Kenny and Butters are the embodiment of that quote. Let's raise our glasses to their union. Cheers guys!" He concluded as he raised his glass, joined by the other guests.

* * *

After he shook hands and hugged the newlyweds, Cartman was finally able to go and sit down to his table. He wasn't nearly as nervous as he had been earlier; the few drinks he had truly helped to mellow him out.

He caught up and made small talk with his childhood friends, he found out that Stan and Bebe, who had been married for the past eight years, had welcomed their first daughter just two years prior. Stan was a mechanic in South Park whereas Bebe was a hair dresser and owned the only remaining hair salon in the small town.

He also learned that Wendy and Token had gotten married five years prior and that they were both quite active on the New Hampshire political scene: Token had just become the mayor of Concord, whereas Wendy was working for the governor's office, and was eventually planning to run for governor herself in the hopes to one day become President of the United States.

Cartman and Flavia looked at each other as the learned about Wendy's plans and had to resist the urge to laugh out loud. He knew that she would have no chance if she ever dared to run against Flavia and him, not once the alliance with the Douche family would have become official.

Cartman had caught up with Tweek and Craig at the rehearsal, so he didn't pay much attention to what either of them was saying. When he gay couple had finished talking about Cleveland, Eric took the opportunity to ask Kyle what he had been up to since they last saw each other.

"Let's see: I got married to Rebecca, as you know, then I moved to L.A., my wife and I had Ayala, then I moved back to South Park and took over my dad's firm, Adam was born and here I am." The redhead replied in a less than enthusiastic tone, without even bothering to make eye contact with any of his peers.

Cartman was taken aback by the coldness of his tone; something was off with his childhood friend. Although he was seated right next to Stan, the two of them hadn't even acknowledged each other, and he seemed distant from everyone at the table, excluding his daughter.

"Wow, congrats on taking over the firm. Where's your wife? I could have sworn I had seen her at the ceremony." Cartman asked, in part out of curiosity, and in part as an attempt to get him out of his shell.

"She wasn't feeling too well after the ceremony and went back to our room with Adam." He simply replied, his voice sounding just as monotonous as before.

At that point, Cartman decided that he needed to have a private talk with Kyle at some point: He didn't know where or when, but he knew he had to figure out what was going on with him and why he was acting so detached. Although they had a brief moment when the old Kyle seemed to be back, he understood what Flavia meant the previous night. He didn't know what happened to him in the past ten years, but he was planning to find out.

Sensing that the atmosphere at the table had turned awkward, Bebe decided to change the topic in order to make everyone at ease once again.

"Congrats on finally getting a girlfriend, Cartman!" Bebe said cheerfully. "Last time I remember you being in a relationship was with Heidi Turner." She added.

"Thanks for reminding me of that fiasco." He muttered under his breath.

"Oh, come on Cartman! Heidi was a nice girl, and she was quite smart too! She got into MIT, remember?" Wendy interjected.

"I never said that she wasn't nice, nor have I ever claimed that she wasn't smart; she was just, you know… not funny!" Cartman blurted out.

"How about your new girl? Is she funny?" Craig asked as he raised his eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah… she's a riot! Yesterday, she sent me the funniest picture I've ever seen." He said, hardly able to contain his laughter.

Knowing which picture Cartman was referring to, Flavia simply buried her face in the palm of her hand, whereas Ayala gave him a dirty look. He was obviously referring to the picture that Tiffany had sent Flavia the previous evening where her face was completely swollen.

"Why do you want to marry that Douche girl if you don't love her? If you dislike her so much, why don't you just ask Flavia to marry you instead? The two of you get along perfectly, and on top of it she's wearing the ring right now!" Ayala exclaimed, shocking everyone at the table.

"Oh, hell no! No, no, no, no! The ring is on my finger to make sure nothing happens to it." Flavia said, bursting into laughter.

"Ayala, we went over this! I really like her, but I like to tease her..." Cartman replied as an intense blush rose in his face.

"But you and Flavia get along so well!" Ayala added.

"True, but he's my boss. Besides, I'm pretty sure it'd be illegal." Flavia replied and gasped when she realized she had made a monumental slip.

"As a lawyer, I can certify that getting married to your boss is not a criminal offence." Kyle said in a very, very salty manner.

"I was referring to being married to more than one person at once." Flavia quickly replied, only dig a bigger hole for herself.

"But Eric isn't married yet, right?" Ayala asked, confused. "Unless..." She continued, only to be interrupted by Flavia's nervous laughter.

"I was making a joke about being married to my job, but I guess no one got it." She blurted out as she continued to nervously giggle.

"Okay... So Cartman, when are you and Tiffany getting married?" Token asked, deciding to let the previous conversation go.

"To be honest, I haven't even proposed to her yet; I was going to do it at the brunch tomorrow, but then she had that medical problem and couldn't make it. I'd appreciate it if you guys kept this whole story to yourselves, you know, for paparazzi reasons." Cartman admitted.

While Cartman made small talk with his childhood friends, Flavia couldn't help but notice just how tense Kyle had been ever since Cartman came and sat down. She also noticed that the redhead seemed a lot tenser since Cartman's relationship with Tiffany was brought up. In her mind, there was no doubt. Her boss was infatuated with Kyle Broflovski; that much, she had known for years. But now it was becoming more and more clear to her that the feeling was mutual between the childhood friends.

* * *

After dessert was served, the patrons were all asked to step out the hall and go to the beach directly outside of the building so that the staff could rearrange the setting of the room in order to clear up space for the dance floor. They were all handed sparklers and matches, and they were asked to await further instructions. Ayala and Flavia were chatting and laughing together, and seeing that his daughter was in good hands, Kyle took that opportunity to eclipse himself from the crowd and started walking along the beach towards the area that was rocky, bushy and dark, which seemed secluded from the rest of the party.

Kyle recalled the instances in which he and Cartman had locked eyes that day. In these moments, Kyle thought that Cartman was as attracted to him as he was to Eric. 'I should have known better.' He thought as he pulled his untouched scotch flask out of his blazer and took a swig. His heart broke when he found out that Cartman was planning to get engaged to the Douche bitch, and when he thought that he could have witnessed the proposal the subsequent day made his stomach turn. 'Thank God she didn't come'.

Kyle could hear the humming of the voices of the people talking in the distance from the area where the guests were; he knew he should have been with them, but he needed to be alone for a while in order to digest the evening. He sat on a big rock and took another swig, looking up at the stars and marvelling at how beautiful they looked. He then heard a voice coming from a speaker from the reception, telling the guests to gather close to the water as they were about to witness the first dance that the newlyweds were going to share. A spot light was turned on so that Butters and Kenny could be seen crossing the tiny bridge in order to reach a tiny little manmade island. The guests cheered as the happy couple waved and blew kisses in their direction.

Luckily for him, Kyle could see the newlyweds perfectly without seeing the crowd since trees and bushes were standing between them. He wasn't worried about Butters and Kenny seeing him either; he was sitting in darkness. And so, he just sat there and took another swig out of his flask, minding his own business, when he heard something moving through the leaves. Kyle ignored it, assuming that it was simply some animal that was moving around near him. As he heard the person on the microphone apologize to the crowd because they were having technical problems, the redhead felt something on his shoulder and shrieked in terror.

"You really shouldn't hide to drink, Kahl." Eric smugly said.

"God damn it Cartman! You scared the living crap out of me!" Kyle spat as he turned around after recognizing Eric's voice. "And please, don't lecture me! I have a wife for that!" He added in a dryer tone.

Cartman roared with laughter before he pulled out his own flask filled with cognac.

"You're not the only one who likes to drink in peace, away from over joyous crowds. As for your wife, you made that decision; now live with it." Eric bluntly said as opened his flask and took a gulp out of it. "I mean, I did try to warn you, but you sent your mother to meet me instead of showing up." He bitterly muttered under his breath.

"What the hell are you talking about, Cartman?" Kyle asked him, having absolutely no idea what his childhood friend was referring to.

"Oh please, don't give me that shit. You can't be so drunk that you don't recall that letter I left for you the day after you announced that you were getting married!" Cartman barked back.

"Cartman, I seriously and in all honesty have no fucking clue what you're even referring to. All I know is that the day I told you guys that I was getting married was the last time I saw you, well until tonight obviously…" Kyle calmly replied.

"Well of course I stayed out of your life, Kahl! That's what you wanted! That's what your mother asked me to do on your behalf, and I've respected your wishes, Khal!" Cartman almost yelled as he felt the tears rising; tears that he did his best to fight back.

"I never got any letter from you, I swear! And what does my mom have to do with anything? What did you need to warn me about?" Kyle asked, utterly confused.

Cartman felt as though he was trembling inside. The memories of his chat with Sheila Broflovski were coming back and he could feel the lump form in his throat. He quickly took a sip from his flask, hoping it would relax him. In the distance, the announcer could be heard saying that the technical issue was resolved and that the newlywed's first dance would take place moments later

"Kyle, the day you told us that you were engaged, I freaked out. I couldn't sleep at all that night and when I rose the next morning, I wrote you a letter asking you to meet me at Stark's Pond that evening. I knew you were at the synagogue with your family, so I left it in the mailbox." He started, almost breaking down. "I showed up and I waited: one hour went by, then two. I was about to leave, thinking that you may not have looked at the mail since it was a Saturday and I was going to give you a call, but then your mom showed up." He continued as a lone tear streamed down his face.

As he understood what might have happened over a decade ago, Kyle felt a lump form in his throat as well. Just like his childhood friend, He took a good swig out of his flask.

"What happened?" Kyle asked in a trembling voice.

"She said that you weren't interested in hearing what I had to say. She said she knew what I was about to do and that if I cared at all about your well being, that I ought to stay out of your life. So, I left the next day and never looked back." He said as he focused all his energy into keeping it together.

"And what was it that you wanted to tell me?" Kyle mumbled.

The song that Butters and Kenny chose started to play and the happy couple started their dance. They had picked _Love like you_ , a song that Kyle recognised right away since his daughter's favourite show was Steven Universe.

 _If I could begin to be_

 _Half of what you think of me_

 _I could do about anything_

 _I could even learn how to love_

"To not marry her; that the two of you didn't belong together." He started, but had to pause in order to summon all his courage. "And to tell you that I loved you." He finally managed to confess as more tears streamed down his face.

Confessing to Kyle felt as though an immense weight was taken off his shoulders. He didn't know how the redhead was going to take it, but it was done. He looked up at his childhood friend in the dim light and noticed something twinkling down his cheeks; Kyle was crying.

Kyle was in total shock and he felt betrayed by his mother. She never told him about the letter, otherwise he would have gone to Stark's pond that night. Instead, he had to suffer through a decade of misery, drinking everyday to be able to get by. The only good thing that came out o his miserable marriage was Ayala.

Kyle took a deep breath and took the few steps that were separating him from Cartman. Even with the lack of lighting, he looked at the man of his dreams in the eyes and cupped his face with his hands. Kyle could see the confusion of the larger man but he simply smiled and lifted himself on the tips of his toes, pulling in his face so he could rest his lips on Eric's.

 _Look at you go_

 _I just adore you_

 _I wish that I knew_

 _What makes you think I'm so special?_

At that moment, Fireworks shot up from behind the newlyweds and the guests could be heard cheering and clapping, but Kyle and Cartman couldn't have cared less. The two of them were crying tears of joy as they slowly, but passionately explored each other's mouths. The two of them were smiling as their tongues danced together and intertwined. Momentarily, their kiss would break in order to catch their breaths, but these little breaks didn't last too long as they would start kissing again almost immediately.

"Come back to my suite" Cartman whispered in between kisses.

Kyle sighed; after all the years of longing to be close to Cartman and after they made out in such a passionate way, he wanted the next step, which was to have wild and crazy sex with the brunet. However, he had his daughter to worry about, and he didn't trust Rebecca anymore. He was too scared that the crazy woman he married would try to harm the child.

"I can't." The redhead finally replied after he broke his embrace.

"Why not?"

"I can't leave Ayala alone with Rebecca, not after what happened yesterday." He replied. "Last night, when I confronted her about losing Ayala in the crowd, I got a really bad vibe." He continued. "Please, do understand that'd I'd love to come, but my daughter has priority." He added.

Cartman nodded silently in full understanding of the redhead. Had the roles been reversed, he would have the exact same reaction. Trying hard to come up with a way for Kyle to spend the night with him, the brunet embraced Kyle once again and planted a kiss on his cheek, making the redhead smile.

"For what it's worth, you're a better kisser than I ever imagined you to be." Kyle said as he indulged himself in the comfort of the larger man's arms.

"That's it! Khal, what if Ayala comes to my suite with you?" He asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"I'd say yes in a heartbeat, but do I really want to get into another fight with Rebecca? Ayala was extremely stressed out today because she heard us fight last night." The redhead replied. "There's that, and she doesn't have a nightgown, or a toothbrush, or clean underwear for the next day, and neither do I. I mean, for my part, I don't really care, but she's a child with a specific bedtime routine." He then added.

"I can send Flavia to get all that stuff." Cartman quickly replied as he pulled out his phone.

"Cartman, you don't know my wife." Kyle immediately blurted out.

"And you don't know my assistant." Cartman replied while his phone was dialing and he was waiting for Flavia to pick up.


	8. Slumber Party

Rebecca had just put Adam to sleep in the queen sized bed that she was supposed to share with her husband. As soon as she closed the door to the room, she leaned against it and slowly let her body slide to the floor. Tears started to stream from her eyes as she reflected back on the events that took place since her family had arrived in what was supposed to be paradise. She had been looking forward to this trip for months, and so far it had been nothing but a nightmare.

Up until the previous day, although her husband had always been cold and distant, he had always sided with her when it came to the kids. The fact that he went against her wishes stung her ego, and she knew who was responsible for that shift in his behaviour.

"That blonde bitch!" She said in a trembling voice to no one in particular.

She knew that Flavia had her cornered and that she'd have to change her behaviour around Ayala. Rebecca absolutely despised that child with all her core, and she felt entitled to that emotion because she was Kyle's daughter: she looked like him, she acted in a very similar way as him and she'd defy her just like he'd do. Her husband had neglected her for years in every possible way except monetarily. In her mind, it was only natural for her to see Kyle whenever she set her eyes on Ayala, only unlike her father, she was absolutely useless to her; At least Kyle made a lot of money with the firm.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard a knock on the door. Perplexed by whom it could have been, she wiped her tears with her nightgown's sleeve and slowly got up. She almost fainted when she opened the door to discover that it was none other than the blonde woman who could destroy her life in a heartbeat and the daughter that she hated so. To add insult to injury, the blonde was giving her a conceited smile that she would have gladly wiped off with a strong slap across the face, but Rebecca knew better than doing something that stupid.

"Mrs Broflovski, I am so sorry to disturb you at this time. Are you feeling better?" Flavia asked the unfit mother with the sweetest voice she could emit.

Rebecca had to keep herself from jumping at the blonde's throat.

"Why, yes, thank you for asking." She replied as calmly as she could. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, your husband and my boss have been catching up all night, and Mr. Cartman invited your husband, as well as your daughter, for a slumber party. I was asked to escort Ayala here so that she may gather some things for herself and her father such as pajamas, toothbrushes and such." Flavia said as sweetly as she could.

"No." Rebecca dryly replied. "I don't care what my husband does, or where he chooses to sleep tonight, but Ayala will remain here with me." She bitterly added.

"Please mommy! I don't know when I'll be able to see Eric or Flavia again after this." Ayala immediately tried to plead with her stubborn mother.

"No means no young lady. If you don't want to get in trouble again, you will obey me." Rebecca exclaimed with authority.

Flavia let out a sigh as she shook her head; the blonde knew she had a clear advantage over this woman that she had just met and already disliked, which was why she was practically beaming with joy when she was asked accompany Ayala. After the small altercation she had with Kyle's wife, she simply knew that Rebecca would be trying to hold whatever ground she had left, and the blonde took way too much pleasure in putting that lame excuse for a mother back in her place.

"Ayala, my dear, go grab the stuff your dad asked for while your mother and I have a little chat." She said as she bent over and rested her hand on the little girl's back.

Under her mother's horrified eyes, the little redhead marched right into the room her parents were renting and started to gather some basics: toothbrushes, cell phone chargers as well as the book she was in the middle of reading. Seeing that Adam was nowhere to be seen, the child assumed her mother had put him to sleep, so she was very quiet and careful when she opened the door to the room her parents were supposed to share, and closed it right behind her, so that she could go get pyjamas, clean underwear as well as the clothes her father and her were going to wear at the brunch on the subsequent day.

"Mrs Broflovski, must I remind you that you are in no position to make demands?" Flavia said once the door closed behind Ayala, her expression and voice going from smug to stern.

Rebecca jerked towards Flavia with her fist raised up; she desired nothing more than land one punch, one hit, even a slap her. For a moment, Rebecca was so enraged that she would have actually hit her, but thankfully for her, common sense soon took over the sheer emotional response she was previously having and her hand stopped a mere inch away from Flavia's face.

Less than impressed, the blonde barely reacted to the attempted assault, and instead locked eyes with the unfit mother. The two women stared each other down for a few moments; their gaze was filled with hatred and contempt.

"How did you know I wasn't going to hit you?" Rebecca asked, never breaking her gaze from the blonde.

"I didn't know whether you were going to hit me or not, and frankly, I wouldn't have cared." Flavia calmly replied. "Do you want to know what I do know for a fact, though?" She continued as in one swift moment, she captured the curly brunette's hand and lowered it, away from her face.

"I know that I can destroy you as easily as I can wipe my ass, and believe me when I say that I'd rather have shit all over my hands than having to make physical contact with you ever again." Flavia released the other woman's wrists.

"You want my husband, don't you?" Rebecca practically spat while Flavia burst into sudden laughter.

"I got me one of those, you can keep yours." Flavia replied while giggling, and didn't even notice her monumental slip up.

"So what is it that you want?"

"From you? I just want you to be a good mom to both your kids. That being said, Ayala will spend some quality time with her father, his good friend from childhood and me tonight." Flavia demanded as Rebecca was eyeing her back with a mix of confusion and rage.

"This isn't fair!" Rebecca almost screeched.

"Life isn't fair." The blonde immediately responded, shifting to a more serious tone. "Some people are lucky enough to be blessed with kids, and treat them as though they are nuisances, whereas some people would steal, beg and kill in order to have the privilege of having a child to love and nurture." She sternly added.

The two women glared at each other once more, but this time Rebecca knew that she was defeated for good. The brunette watched as the daughter she had grown to detest came out of the room with a knapsack that contained the items her father had asked for. The fact that her daughter got along beautifully with this blonde woman, who was a stranger to her entire family just the day before, ate at her heart unceasingly.

"Are you all set to go?" The blonde asked the little girl, who promptly nodded. "We will be on our way now. I am looking forward to seeing you at the brunch tomorrow morning." She added, trying to sound as sweet as she could. "Good night, Mrs Broflovski."

"Good night mommy. I love you, and thank you for letting me go tonight." Ayala said before she tightly hugged her mother's waist.

When Flavia noticed that Rebecca wasn't reciprocating the affection her daughter was giving her, she glared at the mean woman who then immediately wrapped her arms around the little redhead, glaring right back at the blonde woman who responded with a smirk.

"Good night, Ayala. You be good and you listen to your father." Rebecca said after her child broke the embrace and headed for the door where Flavia was waiting for her.

Once the two new friends left the room, Rebecca felt lonelier than she ever had in her entire life. She sat on the couch, buried her face in her hands and started to sob. For years she had known that her marriage was over, but she was finally starting to realize that so was her overall family life. Her universe was crumbling around her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

* * *

Kyle and Cartman left their little hiding spot on the beach as soon as Eric's phone call to Flavia was finished. The two of them walked to the presidential suite as though nothing had happened, but the instant that Eric swiped his card and unlocked the door, things took a different turn.

Kyle immediately threw himself at the larger man, grabbing two fistfuls of his light brown hair and pulled in Eric, almost knocking the wind out of him, and rested his lips on his where they belonged. Releasing his partner's hair, he instead decided to undo his bowtie and work on getting the other man's shirt unbuttoned. The brunet's scent was inebriating enough, but the moment Kyle buried his face in Eric's neck, his member got so hard that he was scared of coming right there and then.

For his part, Eric didn't waste any time either; instead of fiddling with shirt buttons, he went straight for the redhead's belt buckle and undid with one hand while the other one was busy feeling up his perky little butt. The brunet then proceeded to unzip Kyle's pants and stuff his large hand directly on the redhead's throbbing cock. When the smaller man moaned, Eric felt as though he had just received an electric jolt right to his groin, and unable to resist the urge to do so, he gently stopped Kyle, who was gently suckling on his neck, and went down to his knees.

Kyle moaned with more vigor when without any hesitation whatsoever, Eric took his entire member in his mouth. The wetness and warmth from the brunet's mouth were feeling incredible enough to Kyle, but when he started to deep throat him to the point of gagging every two or three strokes, the redhead saw stars.

"Oh my God, stop Cartman, I'm gonna come." He cried.

"What's the matter, Jew? You don't want me to make you come?" He replied while he was gently stroking the redhead's dick so he could regain his breath.

'He looks dreamy' Kyle thought as he looked down and saw the man he had been obsessed with for all these years jerk him off and casually licking the tip.

"Not before I have you inside of me." He replied as he felt the heat of a blush rise in his cheeks.

Cartman couldn't help but grunt as he heard these words. He looked at Kyle right in his emerald eyes and smirked before he got himself up again. In one swift move, he scooped the redhead in his arms and carried him to presidential room bridal style. Resting his lips on his, he delicately set him down on the bed and worked to get his shirt and tie off, while the redhead took care of undoing and unzipping the brunet's pants.

Once the couple finally got rid of all their encumbering clothing, Eric rolled himself on top of Kyle while their tongues were still gently playing with each other. The taller man started rubbing his excited cock against Kyle's and relished each and every muffled moan the redhead let escape. He eventually got bored and got off of the smaller man.

"What's wrong?" Kyle immediately asked, fearing that he had done something wrong.

Cartman blankly looked at the emerald eyed man before he quickly glanced at his unattended dick.

"It ain't gonna suck itself." He said teasingly before he noticed Kyle's body relaxing once more.

His partner didn't wait a second as he placed himself between his legs and as his lips were about to brush up against the excited manhood, Eric gently pushed him back.

"Not like that, Khal. Turn around; I want to know what kosher ass tastes like." He ordered, amused by the confused shinny emerald eyes that were staring at him.

Kyle obliged, and the moment his tight little ass was in reach, the perverted billionaire didn't waste any time before he started eating it out like it was candy, giving the perky cheeks the occasional little love nip which made the redhead gasp every single time he felt the sharp teeth. Kyle took his time savouring Eric's cock and Cartman was grateful, for each and every time his tip felt his partner's throat tightening around it, he grew more and more impatient to finally stretch the little anus he had just devoured.

Without warning, Kyle felt a small, but sharp pain where the sun never shone; Eric had put two fingers in his tight little hole and was slowly and carefully fingering it. It wasn't very painful, but it felt really odd, uncomfortable even.

"If you're not sufficiently stretched out, it'll be very painful for you and the last thing I want to do is hurt you." Eric calmly explained when he heard Kyle emit a series of little grunts. "The trick is to relax; take deep breaths and take it like a man. Whatever you do, keep your mouth on my dick so that it slides in more easily." He added.

Kyle was focusing on his breathing, and quickly enough, the sensation of the fingers became more bearable before it became downright nonexistent. At that point, Eric slipped in one more finger and repeated the process until all his fingers, except his thumb, were stretching Kyle's little hole.

"I think you're ready Khal." Eric said after he removed his fingers from the glorious kosher hole.

Kyle was glad to finally remove his mouth from the large man's penis; he enjoyed giving head, but his jaw was starting to hurt. He went down on all fours and braced himself for the moment Eric would penetrate him.

"Lie down on your back, Khal. I want to see your face while I fuck you." Cartman gently requested as Kyle did as he was asked.

The brunet promptly placed himself on top of the red head and lifted his legs to place them on top of his shoulders. He kissed his partner while he pressed the tip of his aroused cock at the cusp of the redhead's entrance, eager too finally, after all those years of meaningless sex with random prostitutes, being intimate with the person he'd been in love with since childhood.

"Relax." He whispered in his lover's ear after giving it a light and tender nibble.

Kyle gasped as the brunet slowly and carefully penetrated him, grabbing handfuls of brown hair and trying as best as he could to cope with the feeling of being split open. The deeper it got, the more Kyle was gasping.

Noticing his partner's struggle, Cartman kissed his partner passionately and remained balls deep in Kyle's ass so that he could get accustomed to his entrance being stretched. The billionaire was usually quite rough when it came to sex, but this wasn't just sex to him; for the first time in his life, he was actually making love.

Kyle finally started to relax and Cartman knew it was time to pick up the pace. He was very gently at first, feeding off of Kyle's moans and groans. Soon, he was pounding the redhead's ass, and Kyle was screaming out of pleasure. The brunet was so aroused that he knew he was going to blow his load at any given second.

"Say my name." He ordered, as he held his ejaculation.

"Cartman!" Kyle moaned.

"That's my surname. Try again." Eric replied, slightly annoyed.

He gave Kyle two strong and hard thrusts as encouragement to say the name he never said, but Kyle had a better idea.

"Fat ass!" He moaned with a smile, evidently toying with the large man.

"Very well. I guess I'll just make you scream like the little Jewish bitch that you are." Cartman said after heavily sighed.

The brunet went all out; each thrust he gave was deeper and stronger. He picked up the pace, and he could see that Kyle was holding back a scream as though he didn't want to give him the satisfaction. It just motivated him to be even rougher with the redhead.

"Eric!" Kyle finally screamed as he spilled his seed all over his own stomach.

The word sounded like sweet, sweet honey to the billionaire. He sloppily kissed Kyle's neck as he allowed himself to climax inside his love. Out of energy and completely sated, it took him a few moments to pull out and roll to the side.

The two laid there, out of breath and still in disbelief over what they had just done. Kyle had never felt as joyous and as complete as he did at that moment. The sensation of a void and emptiness in his heart, a sensation that he had carried around like dead weight for a decade was finally filled. On the other hand, Eric felt a sense of impending doom rise in his gut and he was unable to shake off. His mind was racing as to what was going to happen next: would Kyle finally divorce his wife so they could be together? That was unlikely. Was he going to drop Tiffany and kiss his dream of being president goodbye? He had wanted to be at the head of the country for far too long to give it up. Or was he going to go through with his plan and find a way to sneak around with Kyle? That was the most logical and probable course of action so far.

"Don't do it." Kyle said, finally breaking the silence and snapping Eric out of his thoughts.

"Don't do what?" Cartman asked although he had an idea as to what Kyle was referring to.

"Don't marry her. Don't make the same mistake I made."

Cartman sighed. He was afraid Kyle was going to try to warn him. He didn't know how he was going to justify going forward with his plan to him without revealing that he was basically going to use Tiffany for political gain.

"I don't have a choice, Khal. Trust me, I can't stand her but I have to do it." Eric simply replied.

"I don't understand." Kyle responded.

"Why did you marry Rebecca?" Eric asked him.

"I had to pacify my parents."He replied, a little embarrassed about the reason he had to reassure them.

"Why did you need to pacify them?" Eric was getting curious.

"They had caught me jerking off to gay porn and they were horrified. I bumped into Rebecca shortly after and you know the rest of the story. The worst part is that it didn't need to be Rebecca; it could have been any girl and I would have still done it just to get my parents off my case." Kyle explained.

"Really? Your parents reacted that badly to gay porn? What the fuck were you watching, German fetish videos?" Cartman inquired out of curiosity as a blush crept on his partner's face.

"It was nothing too crazy; I mean, it was just regular porn, only..." Kyle searched for his words as his blush intensified.

"Come on, Khal. What was it?" Cartman asked, impatience getting the best of him.

"It was a thin redhead getting his ass destroyed by a taller and larger brunet." He finally admitted.

Eric couldn't help but burst into laughter while Kyle, clearly annoyed and still embarrassed, let out a loud grunt.

"Well that explains why your mom came to talk to me herself. Had you showed up to Stark's pond, the whole town would have heard you scream my name." He said before his expression shifted. "Shit, she royally fucked us both, didn't she?" He added grimly.

There was a moment of silence between the two as both of them were lost in their thoughts and doubts. Neither of them knew if that night had been a one night thing, or if they would see each other again. Both secretly hoped that these encounters could become a regular thing. The silence was interrupted by the beeping of Cartman's phone.

"It was Flavia, she just texted me. She just left your hotel room and is on her way with Ayala and the stuff you asked for. We should get dressed." Cartman announced before he threw the phone back on the bed.

"Can you just promise me one thing, Cartman?" Kyle asked while he was buttoning the shirt he had just picked up.

"It depends." He replied, turning around to face the redhead.

"Promise me that you won't be a stranger. These past years, I missed you tremendously, to the point where it became physically painful. I don`t want to lose you again."

"The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Khal. I was hoping you'd want to stay in touch." He replied with a smile as peered into the redhead's emerald eyes.

Kyle smiled back at the brunet and embraced him. For the first time in a long time, he felt as though things would finally be OK. He had to find a way to deal with his wife, but he knew he had to clean up his act first. The two men exchanged one last passionate kiss before they rushed to get dressed and presentable just in time before Ayala and Flavia's arrival.

* * *

Eric and his assistant were on the balcony having their usual late night drink together while their two guests slept in the sofa bed provided in the living room area.

"So you're basically telling me that the past ten years were the result of miscommunication and Kyle's mother's evil plan. What a fucking bitch!" Flavia exclaimed after she took a sip of cognac.

"Khal's mom was always a big fat bitch; I've been saying it- singing it, rather- since the third grade." He sighed.

"I'm happy that you and Kyle rekindled your relationship, but it doesn't change our plans, right?" Flavia inquired.

"No, of course not."

"And is Kyle aware that you will still propose to Tiff and marry her?"

"He is well aware." Cartman certified.

"Have you told him the plan?" She asked, this time annoying her boss, judging by his expression.

"No, Flavia. I haven't said jack shit to him, so quit it with the interrogation session, will you? It's you we should be talking about. I'll use the back door to get into politics, but what about you? And furthermore, a politician who is single is unheard of; we need to get you a husband." Eric blurted out.

Flavia raised her eyebrow and gave him a slanted smile.

"I have an idea, but I need to figure out a few things before I can present it to you. There're a couple of things I need to get done before anything can get done."

"What do you mean? The first step is to find you a suitable suitor before we even start thinking about getting you on the political scene."

Flavia sighed heavily and set her gaze on the floor. There was one thing that she never told her boss, and she needed to get things resolved as soon as possible now that the ball was rolling. She had never told Eric about her husband out of sheer embarrassment, and there was only one course of action that she could take in order to fix that situation

"I'd rather discuss this once we'll be home in a few days. There's a more pressing matter I wanted to talk about, and it's about Rebecca Broflovski."

"What about her?"

"I got into three altercations with her today: At the salon, at the wedding and when I took Ayala to gather stuff for tonight."

"Three times in one day, are you kidding me? Why?"

"I have good reasons to believe that she is a danger to Ayala, and not because she lost her kid in a crowd; unfortunately, these things can happen to anyone. I filmed her at the salon, and she pretty much said that she would have wanted Ayala to get abducted and get out of her life." She explained, making Eric gasp out of horror.

"We have to let Kyle know." He mumbled.

"That's not all; tomorrow at the brunch, pay special attention to her son and try to find which person he looks like the most. I'm surprised Kyle hasn't figured that one out on his own." She continued.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You'll see, but for the time being, I wouldn't say anything to Kyle, not just yet. If Kyle hasn't left her yet, there must be a reason. For instance, he may be worried that she'd get full custody since he has unhealthy drinking habits."

"That's a pretty good point." He admitted. "Alright, I'm off to bed; I got one hell of a workout tonight and I need to recuperate, if you see what I mean." Eric said as he winked at Flavia.

The blonde simply sighed and rolled her eyes. She was used to her boss being a show off every time he had mind blowing sex. She peeked inside and waited for him to close his bedroom's door before she pulled a cigarette from her robe's pocket. She sparked it, got up and leaned on the railing, admiring the tropical paradise that was surrounding her.

She was looking forward to going to the brunch the next day, mainly because she had asked Marlene to seat her next to Rebecca Broflovski once again. A smile crept on her face as she thought of how much she enjoyed having all that dirt on her. Although she had only known her for a day, she already knew that she despised her. Taking a long drag from her cigarette, she thought of how she was going to slowly make that harpy lose everything she had and held dear, including her mind.

If she played her cards right, she could easily kill two birds with one stone: once the motherfucker that tried to snatch Ayala would be arrested, she'd have her golden opportunity to enter the world of politics. She also needed to get her shit together and finally divorce her estranged husband, and it was just her luck that Kyle Broflovski was a lawyer. Hopefully, she'd inspire him to dump that bitch he was married to, and who knows? Maybe, she'd have the happy family that she had always dreamt of.

She flung the cigarette after the last toke and went back inside. She took a look at Ayala sleeping in her father's arms and couldn't help but smile; that little girl was absolutely perfect in every sense. As quietly as she could, she walked on her tippy-toes next to the pull out bed, planted a kiss on the little girl's rosy cheek and tucked one of her stray curls behind her ear before she headed to bed.

* * *

The brunch was over and Eric Cartman and his assistant boarded the taxi that would take the to the airport so they could start the long trip home to New York. Eric, who was originally so nervous about attending this wedding, was sorry he had to leave knowing that his lover was going to be on the paradise island for a few more days. He had finally understood what Butters meant when he said that Hawaii was a magical place; he had reconnected with Kyle, kissed him and made love to him. As far as he was concerned, he had the best sex he ever had in his life the night before.

Flavia was worried for Ayala and what Rebecca was capable of doing to her which was why she exchanged phone numbers with the little redhead at the brunch. She even made sure to do so in Rebecca's presence and told the child to call her at any time and for any reason, making sure to make eye contact with the harpy and emphasizing any reason.

"Stan Marsh." Eric said.

"Huh? Oh, yes! Exactly!" Flavia reacted, unsure at first as to what her boss meant as it took her a few moments to recall what she had said the previous night to him about Adam Broflovski.

"So his wife fucked his best friend and got knocked up; I guess that's why the two of them completely ignored each other the entire time." Eric muttered.

Flavia nodded at her boss silently.

"Is there a reason in particular you don't want us to let Kyle know about this, and about what Rebecca could potentially do to their daughter?" He calmly asked.

"Last night, I found a way to get myself on the political scene but first, there's something I need to take care of, and that will probably take some time." She simply replied.

"Perfect! What's the plan?" Cartman inquired.

"You'll see." She casually replied.

"Quit it with the mystery bullshit and spit it out! We're supposed to tell each other everything, no?" Cartman barked at his assistant.

Flavia was taken aback by her boss's brash reaction. After weighting the pros and the cons, she decided to tell him the secret she had kept well hidden since she initially moved to New York.

"Eric, there's one thing that I never told you and that I should have told you years ago." She started after a long pause.

"Let me guess; you're a lesbian. It's cool; you can still marry a dude and fuck girls on the side, if that's what you're into." Cartman said without hesitation, only to get glared at by his assistant. "I guess you're not a lesbian, that's cool too."

"You know at the reception, when I mentioned that it's illegal to be married to more than one person?" She almost whispered.

Eric's eye grew to the size of saucers. He didn't know how it could have been possible; he had never suspected a thing.

"What? I had no idea, when did you get married, and more importantly, who did you get married to? Please don't tell me it's Trent!" Cartman exclaimed. "Oh god! It is Trent, isn't it?

Flavia shook her heard.

"I was married before I met him, heck, I was married before I met you." She said as she stared down at her lap.

"Okay, I'm all ears." Eric calmly replied.

"Alright, but brace yourself: it's a heck of a long story." She said as she pulled out some paper tissues from her purse; she knew she was going to need them.

"Well, we have a heck of a long trip ahead of us." He said as he rested his hand on hers.


	9. Divorce

Kyle had been uneasy ever since he and his family had gotten back from Hawaii two months prior. He was no longer sharing the master bedroom with Rebecca and was sleeping in the guestroom instead, he personally drove his daughter to and from school until the summer break started, when he took the little girl to work every day with him instead; She had a portable gaming device and her books to keep herself entertained during these long office hours, so she didn't complain, even offering to help her father and the rest of the staff by bringing them coffee and making photocopies of various documents for them. He brought a lot more work at home than he was used to so Ayala never needed to be alone in the same house as his wife.

The sudden change also meant he drank significantly less, which was a positive in a way, but mentally, Kyle was struggling. His wife was playing the martyr, and his parents sided with her, naturally. His mother would call him on a daily basis demanding that he worked on whatever differences he and his wife had, invoking he children's well being. Kyle was passed that point; Rebecca's negligence towards Ayala and her pure, sheer coldness towards the little girl were the straws that broke the camel's back.

Kyle was trying to get a client file finished before his two o'clock appointment and he was having trouble focusing. He had spent the previous night talking with Cartman on skype where the two of them uttered sweet nothings to each other. Eric Cartman was amongst the only people that brought the redhead some sort of joy. Their time together in Hawaii was incredible and he was happy when the brunet promised to stay in contact with him. He was happy that the two of them skyped at least twice a week.

Kyle closed his eyes for a moment and remembered the scent of Eric's skin and the light touch of his hand; he recalled how soft his lips were and how good they tasted. The two of them hadn't seen each other since the wedding, but the previous night, Eric told him that things would soon change. Kyle had no idea what he meant by that.

The sound of his phone ringing pulled him out of his daydream and he reluctantly reached for the handset.

"Yes Donna?" He answered.

"Your two o'clock is here." His secretary replied.

"Excellent. Offer them a coffee and let them know I'll be just a few more minutes. Also, I need you to do me a favour and ask Ayala to stay in the small boardroom. Tell her to cast a movie or something." He replied to his secretary, not even bothering to lookup the name of his new client in his agenda.

"Very well, sir." The secretary said before hanging up.

Most of his clients knew that Ayala was his daughter and they had no problem with the child roaming the office like she owned the place, but when it came to new clients, Kyle had to be more careful. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of exploiting children.

He quickly finished up the final notes on his file, got up and left it on a small table so that Donna could type up the notes and send them off for archiving before he dialed his secretary's extension once more to ask her to bring in the client. He opened his drawer, pulled out a nearly finished bottle of scotch and quickly quaffed down whatever little liquid was left before he popped a piece of gum in his mouth.

The door opened a few moments later, and a petite blonde woman in a white straight dress with an orange purse and matching shoes, with a black briefcase, walked in followed by Donna. The latter grabbed her file from the table and headed back out. Kyle immediately recognized Flavia and his face lit up.

"Flavia! What brings you here? You look radiant!" He said as he got up and walked up to his lover's assistant to hug her.

"Thank you, Mr. Broflovski. I require your services; why else would I be here?" She giggled.

"Had I known it was you, I wouldn't have asked my secretary to keep Ayala in the boardroom." He casually declared.

"Ayala is here?" The blonde asked as her lips formed a smile. "I will certainly take the time to see her before I leave." She continued.

"Has Eric sent you?" Kyle then inquired.

"No, I am here by my own initiative. There are two things I need to run by you, and Mr. Cartman is only aware about one of them, so I'd appreciate if the other issue stayed between you and me only." She said, lying upon her boss`s request.

"First and foremost, I need you to know that I may have only met your daughter a short while ago, but the two of us bonded right away. Believe me when I say I have nightmares on a consistent basis over... the situation she was in when I first met her." She paused, looking at Kyle straight in the eyes.

"It shocked me that no one intervened before I did and I had an idea so that that type of situation could be prevented in the future, but for that I need your help and that of your family." She continued, pausing.

"Go on..." Kyle encouraged, intrigued.

"I want to start the Ayala Broflovski foundation, and although I have Mr. Cartman's encouragement, I will not go forward without your permission and that of your family. As you know, the pervert was found dead a mere week after the wedding, so he'll no longer be a nuisance to anyone, but the fact remains that the victims of such acts get little to no support." She went on, her eyes locked on Kyle`s.

"My foundation will offer support to victims as well as their families with psychological help as well as financial help if it is required. It will also do preventive workshops in schools, educating kids on how to protect themselves as well as how to react if they witness that type of situation." She concluded with glee.

"If it's your foundation, why would you name it after my daughter?" He inquired, both interested and perplexed by the blonde's idea.

"Because she opened my eyes; I had no idea how little people, children in particular, are prepared to face, and react, when they are presented with such situations. Your daughter's testimony, as well as mine, could open the eyes of a lot more people; she lived through it and she could help bring awareness to others." She immediately retorted.

"I see your point, but I'm not sure it's the best thing for Ayala." Kyle honestly replied.

"As I mentioned, I wouldn't go forward with it until Ayala as well as you and your lovely wife agree with the idea. I will be in Denver for the next few days, and I was wondering if we all could meet up for dinner and discuss things. If there are any problems or fears, I want them to be addressed and I am always opened to suggestions and feedback." She eloquently persisted.

Kyle took a moment to think: the foundation would bring exposure to his child, but it could help countless more. He hated to picture his daughter as a victim, but at the end of the day, she was one and Flavia nailed it when she said that victims got very little support. The whole idea with the dinner scared him ever so slightly because of his wife and the way she reacted to the entire ordeal, but then again, he knew that the person with the last word on whether to go forward or not was Ayala herself.

"I agree. We need to discuss this in depth, possibly with the entire family." He started. "And that also includes my parents and Rebecca's parents too." He decided, thinking that his family had nothing to lose by listening to Flavia's ideas.

Flavia smiled as she got up and extended her hand to Kyle.

"Thank you, I am looking forward to make my case before your entire clan." She winked.

Kyle got up and shook her hand with enthusiasm.

"You said that there was a second topic you wished to discuss?" He queried as he sat back down and Flavia did the same.

"Yes, but it's a rather... delicate topic, which my boss isn't aware of, so I must ask you to never bring it up in his presence, at least until I tell him about it." She fretted as tears rose in her eyes.

"You have my word; besides, it would go beyond the lawyer's code of ethics." He reassured her as he nodded.

"I want to hire you as my divorce lawyer. It may a little difficult, as I was a Canadian resident and citizen and the time, but if it's beyond your capabilities or your comfort level, I certainly understand." She painfully articulated as her voice cracked.

"I'm sure I can manage something." Kyle replied as he handed her his paper tissue box. "Tell me everything."

* * *

Flavia was born while her parents and her older siblings were vacationing at their country home in New England. She was premature, which meant she spent the first two months of her life in an incubator with her mother watching her like a hawk. Being born in the USA, Flavia was granted American citizenship automatically, but as soon as the child was strong enough to cross the border back to Canada, her family brought her back to the city that they lived in.

Flavia grew up in Montreal and had the privilege of learning the two official Canadian languages on top of learning Italian, which was used at home. Her parents, a dentist and an accountant, were wealthy enough to send her to the best private schools of the city, where she met her first and only love. His name was Thomas, and the two of them had been inseparable since they first met when they were twelve years of age. Thomas was a very sweet and romantic boy: he always surprised Flavia with flowers, wrote her poems and even organized picnics for two on Mount Royal during summer time. When Flavia turned sixteen, he gave her a promise ring and the next year, after he worked all summer for his father, a construction entrepreneur, he bought her an actual engagement ring, much to their two families' dismay.

Flavia and Thomas were married shortly after they both turned eighteen, much to their families's chagrin. Flavia, who was already a great negotiator at such a young age, made a deal with her parents: she was to use the money that her parent's had saved up for her education in order to put a down payment on a small, humble home for her and her husband, and Thomas was to work for his father in order to pay for the bills and Flavia's education until she would graduate and get a good job so she'd be able to repay the favour to him.

For the first two years, everything was going according to plan and the couple, despite the normal ups and downs of any normal relationship, were living blissfully. Flavia was earning excellent grades as she attended business school and her family and was very proud of their daughter for being able to juggle being a good housewife and an excellent student.

Thomas, on the other hand, hated his job and suffered every time he had to leave the house to go to work. The job itself wasn't the problem, but the fact that his father put twice as much pressure on him than he did on other employees was seriously starting to bother him and he came to despise his job. One day, he snapped at his father who slapped him across the face and fired him on the spot.

Upon hearing the news, Flavia immediately called her father-in-law to try to sort things out, but alas, he gave her no heed. Desperate for money, Flavia took a part time job in a library and Thomas started to work as a bagger in a grocery store, but the money was running thin. That's when Thomas made the decision to join the Canadian armed forces, despite Flavia's many objections. She was worried sick about what could happen to him abroad, although he kept trying to reassure her by claiming that Canada did mostly humanitarian missions and that the money was good.

Soon, he left home to go train on a base before he was deployed to Iraq, where the Canadian forces were only supposed to advise and assist local troops and armies against Daesh. Flavia was worried sick and barely able to focus on her studies. She cried often and longed for the day that her sweet husband would come back home, safe and sound. She wrote to him every day, and he did the same. Next thing she knew, a year had gone by.

And then what Flavia feared the most happened; her husband's unit was struck by Daesh, but luckily, Thomas was not captured and was only lightly wounded. Flavia thanked the Lord when she got the news that he was alive and well, but she didn't know until later that he had witnessed three of his comrades get blown to smithereens right in front of him.

He got honourably discharged shortly after and went back home, just in time for Flavia's birthday. She ran to him the moment she saw him at the airport, with tears in her eyes, jumped in his arms and held him tight. The nightmare was finally over, or so she thought. Soon, she discovered that the man that came back home was not the same man that she got married to.

Only a few days after Thomas came back home, Flavia was putting dishes away and accidentally dropped one to the ground. As the porcelain shattered, her husband screamed and lunged at Flavia, rammed her onto the counter as he knocked the wind from her lungs and he pinned her down. He continued screaming at her while he choked her. Regaining his senses, he soon let go of her and apologized endlessly to his trembling and wailing wife. It was the first time her husband had shown any aggression towards her, but it was far from the last.

Flavia lived in constant fear for the following two years, careful as to not make any noise and keeping quiet most of the times. She had asked her husband to seek psychiatric care, but every time she did, her advice was welcomed with a push, a shove and when she wasn't so lucky, a swift punch to the stomach. She had become a makeup expert, and was capable of hiding even the nastiest bruise he left on her body.

She eventually became pregnant with Thomas's child, and although part of her was happy because all she ever wished for was to have a happy family to call her own, she was terrorized by what her husband would be capable of doing to the child. When she told her husband that she was expecting, he took her in her arms and twirled her around like he used to when they were teenagers, long before all the madness happened. She was optimistic for the very first time in a long time and he was very attentive to her. She thought that everything would be okay from then on, and that he was finally out of the toxic mindset that had been plaguing him.

One night, he went out with his friends while Flavia preferred staying home and taking it easy. She had been pregnant for twenty eight weeks, and was starting to get quite big; she didn't think a bar was a suitable place for a woman in her condition. Thomas promised he'd have been back by midnight, but soon three in the morning came and Flavia was starting to worry. When her husband finally came back, he reeked of alcohol and he was not in a good mood.

He was screaming and gesticulating, stressing and scaring Flavia, so she got up and tried to soothe him. The moment she gently rested her hand on his shoulder, he grabbed it and twisted it before he pushed her to the ground, got on top of her and started to punch her. Summoning all her strength, she managed to push him off and run for the door, screaming for help, but he was much faster than her and easily caught up.

Before she could reach the street, he had her back on the ground, but this time he started to kick her until she didn't have the strength to resist anymore and she just laid there, helpless and in pain. He cursed and went back inside, leaving his wife in the snow of a cold December night.

The neighbor found Flavia the next day and at that point, she was barely breathing. She was in an advanced state of hypothermia and she had lost quite a lot of blood. The ambulance came and she was rushed to the hospital where they gave her an emergency c-section, but despite all the medical crew's efforts, it was too late for her baby. When Flavia woke up, her baby was gone from inside her womb; she had 3 broken ribs, a broken femur and a broken wrist, without counting the numerous cuts and bruises all over her body. She then got the news that her uterus had undergone irreversible damage and that she'd never be able to bear children again and that hurt her more than any physical wound that she had suffered.

Her husband came with flowers and apologized, and although she played along, she was done with him. The moment he left, she asked the nurse to put the flowers in the garbage. A few weeks later, they allowed her to go home and as soon as the casts came off and she regained her mobility, she gave her husband a groceries list, telling him she felt too faint to leave the house. As he was out gathering the items she had asked for, she hurried and packed up the bare necessities that she needed into a suitcase before she ran out the door and made a quick stop at the bank where she had her entire checking account converted into US currency.

She then hoped the subway to central station and purchased a one way ticked to New York, boarded that train, without a specific plan, but as she crossed the border to the States, she finally felt at peace. With the money she had saved up, she knew she could have survived a couple of months in the Big Apple, and since she was a USA citizen by birth, she wouldn't encounter any problems. She was finally free.

* * *

"Then I found a job at the stock market where I met Mr. Cartman and you know the rest of the story." She concluded before she blew her nose and dried more tears that had streamed down her face.

Kyle was at loss for words over her story and he felt a great deal of sympathy for the blonde who had just spilled her life story to him. He couldn't believe that she had gone through so much horror in her life.

"What about your family? Why didn't you go to them when he started being abusive?" He questioned.

"The first time he shoved me, I did call my mother and begged her to let me come home. You know what she said? 'You made your bed, now lie in it.'." She responded while her lips quivered between a smile and a frown.

Kyle closed his eyes and tried his best not to cry as well. The story had touched home; of course, he never laid a single finger on Rebecca, but he knew what it was to live walking on eggshells.

"I brought this." She said as she pulled a file from her briefcase and set it on the lawyer's desk. "These are true copies of all the papers that pertain to my marriage, including the marriage certificate as well as a list of the common assets that we had while we lived together."

"Are there any items that you wish to recover?" Kyle asked as he opened the file.

"The only thing would be a functional womb, but that's not really feasible. I really don't care about the rest; he can keep everythin. I just want this to be done and over with." She muttered.

Kyle felt his heart sink listening to her.

"Why did it take you so long to go leave him for good, and why did you wait even longer to go through with the divorce?" He managed to ask.

"Fear." She simply answered at first.

"I was scared that if I left, he'd find me and hurt me even more; I was scared of what my friends and family would have thought and I was scared of other people judging me for leaving a mentally ill veteran. Staying only got me a still born baby and the inability to ever have a family." She continued as she wiped more tears.

"Fear is also why I waited so long to get the divorce process started. The thought of sitting in the same courtroom as him still makes me want to throw up, which is why I'd be thrilled if we could do this without having to be face to face with him." She cried.

He sighed and nodded; after what she had been through, he could understand why seeing him was the last thing she wanted.

"Listen, about the dinner, let me make a few phone calls and I'll make it happen for tomorrow evening." He started. "As for your divorce file, I'll need a little bit of time to do some research as to how we can make this go as smoothly as possible." He concluded, sounding completely sympathetic towards his new client.

"That's perfect, thank you Mr. Broflovksi. Thank you for your help, but if you don't mind, I'd like to see Ayala, if it's okay with you, of course." Flavia asked as she got up and grabbed her purse and her briefcase.

"Of course, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you. She really likes you and talks about you all the time. I'll have Donna take you to the boardroom." He proclaimed after he nodded and got up.

He dialed for Donna before he walked over to Flavia, and as she extended her hand, he ignored her gesture and hugged her instead, which took the blonde by surprise. He held her for a few moments before Flavia hugged the redhead back and the two of them remained like that for a few moments..

"Ahem, Ahem." Donna coughed as she stood in the doorway.

"Mr Broflovski, thank you for your services." Flavia said as a blush rose in her already puffy face.

"Anything for you, Flavia. As I said a few months ago, I owe you big time." He simply replied.

The blonde then took her leave and followed the older woman to the boardroom despite the dirty looks that she had received from her.

"Ayala, you have a visitor." Donna said as she opened the boardroom door.

Ayala was using two chairs to make herself some sort of bed as she seemed to be on the verge of napping, but once she glanced towards the door, the little girl's face lit up when she saw who the visitor in question was.

"Flavia! Oh my God, what are you doing here?" She yelled as she tried to get up, almost knocking down the chairs that she was laying on.

Flavia giggled, kneeled and open her arms waiting for the little girl to come hug her under Donna's questioning eyes. The older woman looked up at the ceiling, sighed and exited the room mumbling something incomprehensible, leaving the blonde and the redhead child alone.

"I'm in Denver for a few days because of some business related issues, but I had to drop by because I had an idea. I spoke to your father about it, and he said that the final word came down to you. In the next upcoming days, we'll have a dinner with your whole family so I can explain it thoroughly." She said as she played with the kid's wild curls.

"What's your idea?" The child asked.

"It's a foundation named after you to help other children and adults that had similar experiences as you had in Hawaii on the strip. It's to help prevent these awful things from happening, and to help those who weren't as lucky as you." Flavia explained.

"Does it mean I'll see you more often?" The child asked, hoping that the answer would be positive.

After Flavia nodded, the child burst into laughter and hugged the blonde again.

"How has it been at home since you guys came back from Hawaii?" Flavia asked, changing the topic.

Ayala's face went from cheerful to grim. She looked down at the floor and stayed silent for a few moments, worrying Flavia.

"Not too good; my dad and my mom speak even less to each other and my dad sleeps in the guest room now. I'm not allowed to be home if my dad isn't there. I feel like I live on a battlefield." She finally whispered as her eyes teared up.

"Don't worry; soon, things will be better, I promise." Flavia whispered in the little girl's ear.

The boardroom door opened once again, only this time, it was Kyle. He looked at his daughter hugging the blonde and he felt warmth rising in his heart.

"Ms Fornari, I made a few phone calls while you were catching up with Ayala. My wife and I will have you over for dinner tomorrow night at seven o'clock." He said with a smile.

"Very well, I'll be there." She said as she let go of Ayala. "I was wondering if tomorrow afternoon, I could take Ayala shopping." She asked before looking it the child. "If it pleases you, of course." She added.

"My daughter is not much of a shopper." Kyle immediately replied.

"No, daddy. I want to go!" The little girl blurted out.

Kyle looked at his daughter with a raised eyebrow; she had expressed her dislike for shopping several times but then again, she had only ever shopped with her mother.

"Very well, you may pick her up after lunch and bring her back for dinner." Kyle caved as the two partners in crime winked at each other.

The three of them said goodbye and Flavia was on her way.

* * *

Flavia was on a cab and she was an hour away from Denver, talking to her boss on the phone. So far, her plan seemed to be working; all she had to insure was that the foundation was going to be created and that the divorce process from her estranged husband got started. Planting the idea of divorce into Kyle's head was just a bonus at this point; her boss was supposed to take care of that the next time he saw him.

"It's done; I am having dinner with Ayala's family tomorrow night so I can pitch my idea for the foundation. I also hired Kyle and he knows about everything about Thomas. As per your request, I told him that you were unaware of my past and asked him not to mention anything about it to you." Flavia proudly reported.

"Excellent work Flavia! I must say that your idea was grand! A foundation to help victims of sexual abuse to trampoline you into fame so that you can in turn use it to enter politics in order to make better laws... That is a genius plan right there." Her boss replied, almost laughing.

"Mr. Cartman, I do want to make a difference on such matters." She replied in an annoyed tone, evidently not amused by her boss's lack of sensitivity.

"I'm sorry; it's just that the idea is just too great! I am not looking forward to you resigning from me though." He said, in a more somber tone.

"I know, but it's inevitable, and it won't happen for while anyways. In any case, I already spoke to Ayala, and all she is concerned about is spending more time with me, so the deal is pretty much in the bag. The foundation idea will most likely happen." She gloated triumphantly.

"What if the piece of human garbage you married tries to interfere after he gets the divorce papers, or worse, when you start campaigning? What if he finds out about the trust?" Cartman asked, still serious.

Flavia was not worried about Thomas one bit. Although she hadn't seen him in ten years, she knew he'd be eliminated before he could try to do anything to interfere between her and the plan.

"The true question is how we get Trent to cross the border into Canada with a criminal record. I think we should start working on getting him a pardon." She calmly responded.

"God damn it Flavia! This killing streak of yours needs to end! First Michael, then the paedophile from Hawaii, and now you want to kill your husband too? You can't keep getting away with murder, you know that, right?" He blurted out, flabbergasted.

"Let's not talk about such things over the phone. How's Tiffany?" She asked in the hopes of changing the topic of conversation.

"She's doing great. She called earlier to let me know that she'll be writing the bar exam for New York in December, so she'll be very busy for the next few months, and thank God for that." He said with a sense of relief.

"Great! Good for her! In any case, I will call you tomorrow morning. I want to rest and I still need to practice my pitch for tomorrow night. On top of it, I promised Ayala that I'd take her shopping tomorrow." The blonde confirmed.

"Alright, by the way, as soon as you get their official approval for the foundation, your next task will be to organize the first fundraiser." He quickly reminded her.

"Don't worry Eric, the hall has been booked since we came back from Hawaii and the invitations are already in the mail. I had a feeling that it was a done deal from the second we landed in New York two months ago." Flavia snickered.

"You don't waste any time." He giggled. "By the way, don't fuck it up tomorrow evening; charm them and refute any negative point that they might bring to the table." He sternly added.

"Don't worry boss; I got this." She grinned "By the way, why do you want Kyle to believe that you know nothing about Tom?" She added, truly curious.

"You'll find out soon enough." He responded.

The two said their goodbyes and hung up.

* * *

Ayala was overjoyed on the drive back home, a first since the Broflovskis came back from Hawaii. The child was happy that she got to see Flavia, that she'd get to spend the whole afternoon with the blonde the following day and she was thrilled by the idea that her saviour would get to have dinner with her family. As Kyle pulled up in his driveway and remotely opened the garage door, he felt as though a dark shadow was being cast over him, as he did every time he'd come back home.

While the father and daughter walked inside the house, Rebecca was on all fours and she was vigorously scrubbing a tiny stain on the carpet. She looked up when she heard the door open and her eyes searched her husband, immediately throwing him an icy glare the second she locked eyes with him.

"Ayala, why don't you go get freshened up before dinner?" Kyle calmly asked the little girl, hoping that she'd remain in her cheery mood for as long as possible.

The little girl nodded and ran up the stairs and the moment she was out of sight, Kyle turned his attention back to his wife, who never ceased looking at him with disdain. Completely ignoring his wife's insolence, he simply smiled at her and watched her face gradually turn red. She wasn't too keen on the idea of having one of his clients over for dinner the following evening to start with, but she had completely lost her mind when her husband told her that he was also inviting his parents as well as hers.

"I spoke with our parents as well as my brother, and they all accepted and have confirmed for tomorrow evening. Please, try to cook something nice for once." He calmly drawled while never ceasing to smile

His wife sighed and broke the gaze, focusing instead on the stain she was desperately trying to lift. She preferred to clean rather than cooking meals; she preferred giving birth instead of preparing food. She hated to cook, let alone making a feast for that many people. And she knew her husband loved to torment her and displease her; he had always enjoyed it but since the Hawaiian wedding, it seemed as though he actually got off on it.

"Who's this client that's so important and mighty that he needs to meet his lawyer's entire family?" She inquired in a monotone voice, her eyes glued on the carpet.

"Her name is Flavia Fornari, and you've met her. She's the woman that saved our daughter's life, although you've yet to thank her for it. She has something to present to us that could avoid other cases like Ayala's." He announced.

Upon hearing the blonde's name, Rebecca's blood froze. The woman responsible for making her life even more of a living hell was coming for dinner. She took a few deep breaths and finally looked up at her husband's face; he was still smiling, but it was the type of smile that chills a person to the core. He was torturing her, and he knew it. She could tell from his face that he enjoyed each and every second of it.

Thoughts of the blonde bitch roaming her house and making friends with the rest of her clan started to form in her mind, each thought more sickening than the next: she pictured her mother in law hugging and praising that woman and she could almost see her own mother worship the blonde. The fact that she had to feed her was the icing on the cake, although she briefly considered taking that opportunity to poison her.

"I'll make sure to thank her tomorrow." She lied before finally she got up, grabbed her brush and her bucket and headed towards the laundry room.

"Too little too late, don't you think?" Kyle snarled back as his wife entered the laundry room

Once the door was closed behind her, the woman sighed and burst into tears. She pondered while she was putting her cleaning products away, and wondered if there was any way she could've redeemed herself in the eyes of her husband. Since that wretched trip, she had been unable to put her foot down when it came to him and their daughter. The only little things she had control over were the cleanliness of her home and Adam.

Although Kyle heard his wife's sobs behind the closed door, he gave them no heed, instead choosing to enter his study. He put his briefcase down and switched on his computer and while he waited for his machine to boot, he took a quick swig of scotch from the bottle he kept in his drawer. He was hoping to God that Cartman was on skype because he had a few questions for him and he smiled when he saw the green dot next to the name of the object of his infatuation.

He quickly clicked his name and took another quick sip before he put the bottle away in his drawer.

"Someone missed me! Sup Jew?" Cartman teased when he picked up.

"Don't flatter yourself, fat ass. I have a quick question regarding Flavia." Kyle replied, a grin on his freckled face.

"What about her?" Cartman replied as he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, quit the crap! You know what I'm talking about. Why didn't you tell me about her idea of starting a foundation named after my daughter?" He demanded to know.

"It simply wasn't my place to do so. It was her idea, not mine." Cartman calmly explained.

"She said she has your blessing..." Kyle continued, convinced that his flame had a part to play in all of this.

"Well, of course she does! I said I'll donate to it and encourage my business partners and affiliates to do the same. The only condition to this is that the foundation is opened with your family's consent." He quickly retorted.

"You do realize that you pretty much have us cornered, right? You know that it all comes down to Ayala and that she completely adores your assistant and that she'll want to go through with it just because she'll see Flavia more often." Kyle almost spat.

"I don't see why it'd be a bad thing; Your daughter will be part of something designed to help people that have been in her situation and if she wants to see Flavia more often, it's a win-win for everyone." Cartman immediately riposted.

"What about all the attention she'll get? Do you think it's healthy for such a small child to be paraded around as the poster child for victims of sexual assault?" Kyle almost yelled back.

Cartman sighed and paused.

"Listen, these are questions and concerns that you need to discuss with Flavia and again, it's her project, not mine." He flatly replied.

Kyle, who had immediately calmed down thanks to Cartman's words, or the Scotch he had ingested, or a mix of both, looked at the image of his lover on the screen and nodded.

"She's coming over for dinner tomorrow night and will plead her case in front of my entire family. You're right, these are things we need to discuss with her and I'm sorry I snapped at you." Kyle calmly uttered.

"I guess she gave you a call earlier today to schedule that dinner." Cartman almost whispered as he nodded.

"She passed by the office actually. She had scheduled an appointment last week according to my secretary." Kyle innocently replied.

Cartman looked taken aback for a few moments before he raised his hand to his chin and started to rub it.

"Khal, have you discussed anything other than the foundation when she came to your office? Has she requested your professional services?" Cartman sternly inquired.

Kyle was taken by surprise by Eric's question. He had sworn to Flavia that her case would be confidential and he had no right to discuss anything about it with anyone.

"No, she just came for the foundation." He quickly blurted out, hoping he wouldn't start blushing.

"It's just so odd... Flavia knows that time is money and it's unlike her to waste someone's time while they're working. I sincerely apologize for the disturbance and the loss of income; I will reimburse you and I will have a serious chat with Flavia. This is unacceptable behaviour." Cartman declared, even sterner than he was before.

Kyle was beginning to panic; Flavia was going to be in trouble because of his stupid, yet unintentional slip and he had to fix it at all cost.

"No, Cartman. Please, there's no need. Flavia just had a few questions about the legal set up for a charity foundation. Please don't give her shit; it was a pleasure to see her." Kyle quickly blurted.

"Khal, she has access to all that information through my several companies-" Eric started.

"Cartman, please don't give her crap, she doesn't deserve it." Kyle implored, flashing his puppy eyes to the webcam.

Cartman looked at the pixilated image of the man he loved for a short while before he looked up to the sky and heavily sighed.

"Fine! Even though I expect nothing less than perfection from my employees, I won't reprimand her." He stated, seeming a little annoyed.

"But there's a price; Flavia is coming back to New York on Friday on Donald's private jet. I want you to board that plane with her and come spend the week-end here, in New York. Of course, Ayala is more than welcome to come." He demanded in his overly smug tone.

Although tempted, Kyle knew he couldn't afford leaving South Park, not with the amount of work he had to finalize.

"Cartman, I have work coming out of my ass. I'd love too, but I'm just too busy with the firm." Kyle sighed.

"Come on, Kyle! We haven't seen each other in two months. Don't you want to get your little ass pounded?" The brunet teased before he watched a blush rise in Kyle's face.

"I have this really big case that I'm working on and the court date is coming up." Kyle pleaded, hoping his face wasn't too red.

"Just ask your brother to cover you for this weekend! Come on! It's gonna be awesome: we'll dine in fine restaurants, I'll take you to see a musical and Flavia will make us grilled cheeses at midnight when we come back. But mostly, we'll finally get to spend some time together." Eric implored.

"Cartman, it's not that I don't want to come." Kyle whined.

"Well, I guess Flavia will get loads and loads of shit then." Eric arrogantly interrupted.

Kyle heavily sighed. He couldn't let Flavia get in trouble, not after all she had done for his daughter, and he couldn't betray her trust in him as a lawyer.

"Fine, Ayala and I will come to New York for the week end." He finally conceded.

Cartman closed his eyes and smiled blissfully.

"I'm glad we could reach an agreement, Khal. I miss that tight little Jew ass of yours. I'm going to do such dirty, dirty things to you that you'll never want to leave." He purred as he licked his lips.

Kyle's blush intensified and was at a loss for words; all of a sudden, the prospect of spending a week end with Cartman sounded even better. All he had to do was give a little more responsibilities to his brother and delegate more tasks to his interns.

"God you look sexy when you don't talk." Cartman groaned.

"Goodbye, fat ass!" Kyle grunted.

"Bye, Jew." Cartman replied.

Kyle shut off his computer and took a few more swigs from the hidden bottle. He knew his wife was going to be livid that he and Ayala were going to go spend a week end in New York without her, and that put another little smile on his face.


	10. A game of cat and mouse

"Good morning, sunshine!" Flavia exclaimed the moment her boss picked up her call.

Flavia was in the hotel's lobby when she gave Eric a call. She was waiting for the cab that was to take her for the long drive to South Park so she could pick up Ayala and take her to the mall.

"Jesus Christ, Flavia. Why are you in such a good mood? Did you get laid or something?" Cartman asked, yawning.

"You're such a jackass… No, I'm just excited about tonight." She laughed off.

"Ah, yes. Kyle skyped me last night as I expected; he has some concerns about his daughter being the poster child for sexual assault victims. What's your response for it?" He quizzed.

"Her face will not be on brochures if she doesn't want it to be and she will never be forced to do anything against her will. The only thing that will be shared is her story as well as her name." Flavia quickly retorted.

"Yes… excellent. He also has concerns about potential attention that she might get. He didn't go too into detail, but I think it has to do as to how she'll be treated by her peers and other members in the community. How to you counteract this one?" He interrogated.

"The video I took when the creep was dragging her already went viral. How did the community and her peers react? Some were sympathetic towards Ayala, yes, but it was the aggressor and the non-reaction of the bystanders that made the video go viral, not the victim. Ayala will not be treated differently." Flavia confidently returned.

"You're doing fantastic, keep it up. What if they want to know why you're naming the foundation after Ayala?" he asked.

"She was the person who inspired me to create the foundation. I was there when the near abduction occurred and I saw her reaction first hand; I don't want another child going through what Ayala went through." She riposted with conviction.

"Good, good. Take them by their feelings. Now, what if they want to negotiate? What if they agree for Ayala to be central to your charity, but they want you to name the charity something else?" He queried.

"Very simple, the foundation would then be called Ayala: by leaving out her last name, the name becomes broad and concise simultaneously." She proudly replied.

"I think you're ready for tonight. By the way, I invited Kyle and Ayala to One Madison for the weekend, and Kyle accepted. They'll be flying with you on Friday." He informed her.

"How the heck did you manage that? Kyle seemed busy out of his mind when I went to his office." She asked, surprised.

"There's a reason I specifically asked you to tell him I wasn't aware of anything pertaining to your husband." He snickered. "All I had to do was to make him say what I wanted and then use what you told him confidently to emotionally manipulate him." He gloated.

"That's not very nice! I thought you loved him..." The blonde gasped.

"I do, but old habits die hard and besides, I miss his little Jew ass. Listen, he must never, ever find out I did that. Which is why, if I slip up about what your piece of shit husband did to you, we'll make him believe that you told me of it last night because you sounded sad over the phone and I pretty much forced the information out of you." Cartman growled.

"Alright." Flavia sighed. "It won't be the first, or the last time I lie for you anyways..." She remarked.

"Thank you; I truly appreciate your cooperation." Cartman smiled.

"Oh, the cab is here. I'll call you after the dinner tonight to let you know how things went. Talk to you later, boss!" Flavia said in a hurry, worried that someone else may have tried to hop in the car before her.

She and her boss said their goodbyes and they hung up. Flavia hoped in the taxi and started the two hour drive to South Park.

* * *

Kyle was having a drink in the living room with his father, his father in law and his little brother while his wife was finalizing dinner with the help of her mother and her mother in law. When the bell rang, Kyle got up to open the door two the two only people that were missing. He greeted his daughter and her blonde friend and invited them in, taking their shopping bags. Kyle rejoiced when he saw how relaxed and happy his daughter looked for once. He quickly shot Flavia a quick glance and articulated a 'thank you' without voicing it, to which Flavia responded with a wink.

Kyle showed the blonde to the living room where he promptly introduced her to all the people who were already present before he offered her a drink, which she gladly accepted. While Kyle was mixing Flavia's dry martini, his mother as well as Mrs. Cotswolds were dragged from the kitchen into the living room by Ayala who eagerly introduced her saviour to her grandmothers. Sheila didn't even bother to shake the blonde's hand and simply hugged her tightly, nearly suffocating her as she thanked her at least a dozen times. Flavia didn't even have time to catch her breath after Sheila released her from her tight embrace before Mrs. Cotswolds did the exact same thing as Sheila.

"I think she's trying to say something." Ayala exclaimed when she noticed Flavia was turning a deep shade of crimson.

After being released from the strong embrace, Flavia took in a few noisy deep breaths before her face returned to its normal colour and then she noticed that everyone's eyes were on her.

"It's a pleasure to meet each and everyone one of you. She greeted, trying to defuse her respiratory distress until she noticed someone was missing. "Where's Rebecca?"

"My daughter is in the kitchen taking care of the finishing touches before dinner is served." Mrs Cotswolds eagerly replied.

"I'd love to see her for a just moment, alone, if it's okay with everyone." The blonde then requested.

"Of course it's okay!" Sheila exclaimed. "Come, I'll show you to the kitchen." She continued as she grabbed the blonde's arm.

Sheila led her to the entrance of the kitchen before she gave a few gentle taps on Flavia's shoulder, who smiled in return. Once the red haired woman turned back and marched back to towards the living room, Flavia's smile turned into a glare the moment she set her eyes on Rebecca. The brunette was stirring whatever was in the saucepan and she seemed too focused to notice that the blonde was prowling quietly in her direction like a cat about to pounce on a bird.

"Mrs Broflovski!" Flavia roared, startling Rebecca to the point where she almost knocked over one of her saucepans. "It is both a pleasure and an honour to see you again!" She then added in an over cheerful tone.

Rebecca's heart was still pounding when she turned to the blonde; her face was distorted in anger and it took all her willpower to restrain herself from knocking the blonde's head with her wooden spoon.

"Good evening, Flavia. It's great to see you again." Rebecca bitterly blurted after a few deep breaths.

"Do you require any help?" Flavia asked in a mocking tone.

"No thanks, you're too kind." The brunette retorted, forcing her words to remain polite despite her catty tone.

"Very well then; should you need anything, please don't be shy." The blond snarled before she turned around.

Flavia took a few steps away from the fuming brunette and grabbed a grape off of a fruit platter that was on one of the counters before she turned back to face her once again.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that my boss has invited your husband and your daughter to spend the week end in New York with him. I am unsure whether Mr. Broflovski has told you yet, but he accepted the offer and we'll be leaving Friday in the early afternoon aboard Mr. Trump's private jet. It is in your best interest to accept it." She gloated with a wide grin as she gently wiggled her smart phone in the brunette's face.

Rebecca then watched as Flavia casually ate up the grape, turned around and strutted out of her kitchen as though she owned the place. The brunette was livid, but if she didn't play along, she knew the blonde would show a certain video to her entire family. Her hands were tied and she had no choice but to bow her head and surrender to her demands.

* * *

"Kyle told us that you were at the wedding between Butters and Kenny. Are you friends with them?" Sheila queried.

"Well, they are acquaintances of mine but they're very good friends with my boss." Flavia replied in between bites.

"Oh, that's interesting! Who's your boss and how did he meet the couple?" The nagging woman further investigated.

Flavia was starting to realize what Cartman meant by Kyle's mom being a fat, nosy bitch. They all had just sat down for dinner, and she was already interrogating her mercilessly. Prior to dinner, Sheila wanted to know every single solitary detail about what she had witnessed when she saved her granddaughter, and now she wanted to know everything about her and her personal life.

"Well, he's known them since childhood; he grew up here, in South Park. I'm a little surprised that Kyle didn't tell you that I am Eric Cartman's personal assistant." Flavia responded as she raised her eyebrow and smirked. "Why, Kyle and Ayala even joined my boss and me for a slumber party the night of the wedding. Mr. Cartman and your son had a lot of catching up to do." The blonde innocently stated further.

Sheila's eyes grew as big as saucers and she dropped her fork on the ground. Flavia had an idea as to why Kyle omitted to mention it to her, but she had no intention of lying: after what Kyle's mother had put Eric through a decade prior, the blonde found her panicked expression perfectly enjoyable. Kyle, on the other hand, almost chocked on his food as his cheeks turned a deep shade of burgundy.

"Yeah, that was so much fun, Nana! We played games, and Eric and daddy told us stories about when they were growing up together." Ayala giggled unaware that she had defused the tension around the table.

Sheila immediately looked less tense and Kyle's face went back to its normal colour. The rest of the dinner went by very smoothly and Flavia talked about what she wished to accomplish with the foundation. Both the Cotswolds and the Broflovskis seemed interested by the idea, with the obvious exception of Rebecca who kept to herself and barely said anything at all.

"As far as I'm concerned, the final decision should be made by Ayala." Kyle concluded.

Everyone seemed to agree with him, except for Sheila and Gerald.

"I think the idea is great, but I'm just uncomfortable with our last name being in the spotlight like that." Gerald politely protested.

"I agree with my husband. Can't you call it something else?" Sheila added.

"How about _The Ayala Foundation?_ " Flavia quickly suggested, causing everyone around the table to look at each other.

"I think that's a reasonable compromise." Mrs Cotswolds commented after a brief pause.

"So, what do you think Ayala? Are you willing to lend your first name to my foundation?" Flavia softly asked her.

The child looked up to the blonde, all starry eyed and nodding enthusiastically.

"Well, of course I'll do it! It's like, my civic duty, right?" She confidently replied, which prompted Flavia and Ike to giggle.

"You don't even know what that means!" Ike Cackled.

"Yes I do!" The little red head affirmed as she stomped her foot, this time generating laughter from everyone but her mother.

Kyle watched his daughter and couldn't get over how happy and relaxed she was in Flavia's presence. He had doubts about going to New York at first, just like he was concerned about the foundation, but with Flavia in the picture, he knew Ayala would be just fine.

"Alright, now that the serious stuff is out of the way, I've been wondering what you shopped for." Mrs Cotswolds asked her granddaughter.

"Flavia bought me a bunch of outfits for this weekend." Ayala smiled. "Wanna see them?"

Before her grandmother could answer, Ayala had already bolted out the room to go grab the bags containing her new clothes so she could show them to her family.

"What's happening this weekend?" Sheila asked out of sheer curiosity.

"Ayala and I will spend it in New York with Cartman and Flavia." Kyle explained.

"That's why you've put me in charge of all these mandates." Ike mocked. "Not that I'm complaining, but it explains a lot of things." He then added.

Sheila's face went pale upon hearing hose words, and when she noticed it, Flavia truly wished she could have had her phone in hand to film her reaction to show it to her boss. Before Sheila could add anything to the conversation, Ayala was back with multiple shopping bags and started to show the cute outfits to her family.

Rebecca watched as her daughter gleamed with happiness while she showed the expensive clothes around to her shocked grandmothers; Ayala had always hated anything that was remotely feminine, and had refused to wear dresses on several occasions, but somehow that blonde starnger managed to succeed where she had so miserably failed. The brunette felt out of place in her own home, and she knew why. _That blonde bitch,_ she kept thinking as she felt her blood boil from rage.

"Do you like this one, mommy?" Ayala asked, pulling Rebecca from her thoughts.

The brunette looked at the green dress that her daughter was holding up and nodded as she feigned a smile. As Ayala smiled back at her, she could feel Flavia's scrutinizing eyes watching her every move and observing her every reaction, just waiting for her to fuck up. Rebecca found the whole ordeal quite terrifying and she didn't know how, but she had to find a way to keep that blonde bitch away from her life and her family. _God be my witness, I'll wipe that bloody smirk off your face, you blonde bitch!_ She swore to herself; the more she thought about it, the clearer it became to Rebecca that with a bit of research and some patience, she could possibly kill two birds with one stone.

* * *

Flavia had finally gotten back to her room and was running herself a well deserved bath. As the tub filled up, she opened the bottle of Veuve Clicquot she had instructed the hotel's staff to bring to her room and filled the crystal flute that she was given with the bubbly golden liquid. She stripped her clothes off and immersed herself in the steamy fragrant water before she called her boss, setting her champagne on the floor aside.

"Please tell me you have good news." Her boss brashly said without a greeting.

"Everything went according to plan. I'll register _The Ayala Foundation_ first thing Monday morning." She calmly announced as her confident voice echoed in the luxurious bathroom.

Eric sighed in relief as though the weight of the entire world had just been lifted off his shoulders. After the chat he had with Kyle the previous evening, he had started to worry that the Broflovskis might refuse to partake in his assistant's project. It's not that he didn't believe in Flavia's capabilities at selling an idea; it was Sheila Broflovski and her extreme 'cock blocking'skills that he didn't trust. After what she did to him and to her own son all these years ago, Cartman didn't exactly consider her to be trust worthy. On top of it, Sheila was bossy and always got the last word when it came to family matters and he knew that if the red haired woman wasn't on board, then Flavia's idea would have gone up in smoke.

"Boss? Are you still there? Can you hear me?" Flavia asked after the lack of response.

"Yes Flavia, I can hear you loud and clear." He said, snapping out of his thoughts. "I just want to know that I am so fucking proud of you!"

"Gee, thanks boss! It was much easier than I initially thought it would be." She giggled before she grabbed her glass to sip on her champagne.

"How so?" He inquired.

"Well for starters, both of Ayala's grandmothers literally pounced on me and suffocated me into a hug the second they saw me. After what you've mentioned about Sheila, I knew it'd be a breeze." She smugly declared as she stretched her leg out of the hot water. "The only thing they've asked for was to keep Ayala's last name out, which we had both expected. Heck, they're not even opposed to her face being used by the foundation"

"Damn! We're lucky that she likes you. How did Kyle's wife react?" He continued.

"I had a little chat with her as soon as I arrived. She didn't dare interfere when it came to the foundation and the upcoming little escapade her husband and daughter will be going on this week end." She replied, delighted.

"Wait, you told them about this week end?" Cartman gasped. "Sheila must have been tripping!" He added with a giggle.

"You should have seen her face! She was whiter than a ghost." Flavia grinned.

"You should have filmed it." Cartman reacted. "By the way, I am counting on you to keep Ayala entertained this week; I want to spend as much time as possible alone with Khal." Cartman demanded.

"Don't worry boss; I have everything figured out for Ayala and I." She assured him.

The two of them bid each other a good night and ended their conversation. Flavia poured herself more champagne, closed her eyes and went back to soaking like a queen. She knew that the upcoming months would be very hard and tiring work for her, but she knew that her sacrifice will be well worth it.

The first charity ball for the foundation was going to happen the last Saturday of September; Flavia had already reserved the nicest hall at the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Manhattan. That gave her two month to get the foundation known by the general public and although she was aware that her boss would pull some strings to get the word out, she couldn't just rely on him. She needed to coordinate an awareness campaign as well as a series of interviews and press conferences to promote her cause.

Her thoughts still wandering on her project, she got out of the bathtub and dried herself thoroughly before slipping in the white robe that the hotel had provided for her. She made her way to her balcony, picking up her cigarettes and her lighter before sliding the patio door open. She lit her death stick and filled her lungs with the smoke. She was getting herself mentally ready for all the work that was ahead of her and suddenly, she thought of Kyle Broflovski, his daughter and the upcoming weekend. Her jaw dropped when she understood why Cartman had orchestrated the whole ordeal and she was pleased that he was keeping his end of the deal. She smiled as she took another drag; while she'd be out in the city bonding with Ayala, Eric would start knocking some sense into his lover's head.

* * *

"You really don't have to, Rebecca. Ayala and I could just take a cab, you know?" Kyle said as he loaded his daughter's suitcase next to his in his wife's SUV.

"Don't worry about it, Kyle. It's my pleasure." His wife retorted while opening the driver's door.

"Well, you're really going out of your way for no reason." He quickly added, secretly hoping that she'd change her mind and just stay home.

Rebecca sighed. "I'm driving you because I want to, not because I feel I am obliged to. Besides, I'd like to spend some time with the two of you seeing as you'll be away all weekend." She added as she sat in the car and buckled her seatbelt.

Kyle couldn't help but feel suspicious of his wife's behaviour. As a matter a fact, Rebecca had been acting very calmly and kindly ever since they had Flavia over for dinner, and Kyle found the lack of passive-aggressive behaviour very strange. Rebecca was treating Ayala in a very motherly fashion for once, she hadn't snapped at him once since that night. Kyle, convinced that he smelled bullshit, had tried to push her to the limit several times, going as far as to leave empty bottles of scotch scattered across his study for her to clean up, but he got no reaction whatsoever from her. Not a sigh, not a glare, not a peep; the whole ordeal felt quite eerie.

After she made sure that everyone was in the car with their seatbelts on and that Adam was safely in his baby seat, Rebecca started to drive towards Denver. Kyle was initially shocked when his wife offered to drive him and Ayala to the airport, and he had politely turned down the offer, but she was so insistent that she managed to convince Ayala that it was a good idea, thus his hand were tied. He was dreading the thought of his wife gossiping during the two hour commute, instead he was pleasantly surprised when Rebecca started to sing and to play road trip games with their daughter; granted, he found the games kind of gay but he gladly joined in when Ayala asked him to. The atmosphere was so light and lively that the Broflovskis didn't see the time pass and next thing they knew, Rebecca was parking her SUV at the meeting spot that Kyle and Flavia had agreed upon the day before. The blonde was already there and she was evidently waiting for their arrival.

Rebecca got out of the car along with Kyle and Ayala, and immediately smiled and waved at the blonde, who simply raised her eyebrow suspiciously. While her husband was busy unloading the two suitcases, the brunette said her goodbyes to her daughter, practically showering her with kisses and hugging her ever so tightly under Flavia's incredulous eyes. She then waited for Kyle to close the trunk before going up to him and hugging him, completely taking him by surprise. When she actually kissed him on the lips, Kyle gasped in shock at the unusual display of affection. To make things even more confusing for the two redheads and the blonde, Rebecca walked up to Flavia and hugged her tightly as well.

"OK, what the hell is going on?" Flavia whispered in Rebecca's ear, taking advantage of the fact that the embrace was going to muffle their voices.

Rebecca giggled as she broke their embrace, sliding her hands down the blonde's arm to make sure they'd end up hand in hand. "I just wanted to ask you to take very good care of my husband and mydaughter while they're in New York City." She requested in the sweetest of sweet voices as she delightfully watched Flavia's face gradually turn red.

The blonde quickly snapped out of it when the little red haired girl practically jumped in her arms to greet her. "Don't worry, Mrs Broflovski; your family is in good hands." She replied as graciously as she could while she patted the little girl's hair.

"Alright _Honey_ " Rebecca said to her husband. "I will see you Sunday evening." She continued before she walked back to her vehicle.

Flavia gave Kyle a questioning look; she wanted to ask him if Rebecca had hit her head really hard, but chose to keep that conversation for later on instead. Ayala was with them, and no matter how despicable she found her mother and how much she disliked her, she would have never spoken ill of Rebecca in front her child, not in a million years.

"Shall we get going?" Flavia asked the two redheads.

The father and daughter nodded and started to follow the blonde. The trio had just merely taken a few steps, when a familiar voice brought them to a halt.

"Wait! Hold on!" Rebecca exclaimed as she quickly walked back towards them. "You forgot this in the car." She added as she handed a bottle of mountain dew to her daughter who took it in her hands and thanked her.

"Are you sure she should be drinking that crap? It's packed full of sugar and artificial colouring; I mean, it can't be healthy." Kyle immediately questioned.

"Oh please, Kyle. Let her be a kid and enjoy it while she still can." Rebecca said sweetly.

"She's right, you know. She'll have plenty of opportunities to become a health nut when she'll get older." Flavia observed as a smile formed on her lips.

"Fine! Let's just get going now, shall we?" Kyle sighed.

Rebecca went back to her SUV and buckled up before turning on the ignition. She smiled as she watched her husband and daughter following the blonde woman she detested with her whole being. _They have such a fun filled weekend ahead of them... it would be such a shame if something were to ruin it._ _You blonde bitch! You wanted to play mommy? Well, you're in for one hell of a ride!_ She thought as she gently snickered, careful as to not wake Adam who was napping in his baby seat. Once her family was out of sight, she turned the car around and started the two hour drive back to her home.


	11. Dirt

"Here we are. Welcome to the One Madison." Flavia said as the elevator doors opened onto Eric Cartman's triplex.

Flavia walked out of the elevator and turned towards the two guests who looked as though they were intimidated by the place she and Eric called home.

"You guys should come in before the elevator doors close on you, you know." The blonde snickered.

Ayala was barely able to contain her excitement when she heard Flavia's words; she ran into the condo, shrieking enthusiastically, followed by her father who couldn't stop admiring the beauty of his lover's place. Kyle knew that the penthouse was bound to be luxurious, but he was completely stunned by the height of the ceilings as well as the way Eric had decorated the apartment. He quickly snapped out of his trance when he realized that his child was running around the place in circles like she owned it and that she was being completely rude. He was about to ask her to calm down when the red haired demon jumped on a massive beige couch.

"That's enough, young lady! Behave yourself!" He loudly reprimanded, completely mortified until Flavia rested her hand on his shoulder.

"No worries, Kyle. Let her run and have some fun. Besides, after all Mountain Dew she ingested, it's normal that she's having a sugar rush." She chuckled.

"I just don't want her to ruin anything." Kyle attempted to justify.

"Listen to Flavia, Khal! It's quite refreshing to have a child in this otherwise sterile and dull environment." A familiar voice exclaimed.

Kyle smiled when he recognized the voice and immediately searched for the source of it until he saw Eric in the staircase; the businessman was leaning against the railing and tenderly looking at him. It was almost odd to see him wear something other than a suit; as a matter a fact, the billionaire was wearing a ratty t-shirt and blue jeans. The redhead felt excitement rise in his gut as he locked eyes with the brunet who gave him a mischievous grin. _I want him to do dirty, dirty things to me._ Memories of warm lips against his own and sweat droplets all over his body flashed in his mind and he had to concentrate in order to keep a bulge from forming in his pants.

Their nonverbal exchange was intense, so intense that Ayala had a perplexed look on her face and Flavia was about to say something to defuse the situation before the girl started to ask questions, but someone else beat her to it. As a matter a fact, the moment the assistant opened her mouth to speak, footsteps were heard coming from above and Cartman turned his attention to the sound source.

"Babe, come over here; I want to introduce you to my friends before you go." Eric gently requested.

Kyle's eyes grew to the size of saucers when he processed his lover's words. A moment later, Tiffany Douche came down the stairs and Eric wrapped his arms around her as she passed next to him and descended the remaining stairs together. The sight of his lover displaying affection to that bimbo felt like a kick to the stomach. Kyle would have never admitted it, but he envied the Douche girl; he also suddenly realized that Eric probably felt the same way about Rebecca.

"Sweetheart, this is Kyle, the childhood friend I told you about, and the little rascal over there is his daughter Ayala."He started. "Kyle, Ayala; this is my girlfriend Tiffany."

Before anyone could say anything, Tiffany was already hugging Kyle so tightly that he felt as though he was going to suffocate.

"It's so good to finally meet you! Eric talks about you, like, all the time!" She gleefully squealed before she released Kyle, who timidly saluted her, and she turned her attention to Ayala. "Eric was absolutely correct when he said that you really look like your dad, you gorgeous little girl." She said as she walked over to the couch and sat down to hug Ayala.

"It's nice to meet you too Fa-"Ayala started. Eric and Flavia gasped, knowing damn well what the girl was about to call Miss Douche.

"Tiffany darling, her name is Tiffany." Flavia quickly blurted out, hoping that the billionaire's daughter didn't catch the child's faux pas.

Thankfully, the girl's rudeness seemed to fly right above Cartman's girlfriend's head, who just got up and giggled before she went up to her boyfriend and planted a loud peck on his cheek.

"Anyways, I better get going. I just got notified that the car is waiting for me." She started. "It was nice to see you again Flavia." She added before the blonde nodded. "And it was nice to meet you both, Kyle and Ayala; I wish I could have stuck around a little longer to get to know you." She concluded before she called the elevator.

It was with relief that Kyle watched Tiffany getting into the elevator and wave at everyone before the doors closed. _I'm so glad you're leaving right now._

Eric and Flavia both turned their attention to Ayala, who was then slouching on the couch.

"Ayala, is it me or you almost called my girlfriend _Fat Lips?_ " Cartman interrogated.

"Well, isn't that what you nicknamed her, or something." The redhead immediately retorted as she shrugged.

"Yeah, but you're not supposed to call her that to her face!" The exasperated businessman explained.

"But then that makes you a hypocrite! Are you a hypocrite Mr. C?" She rebuked as she raised her eyebrow.

Flavia and Kyle were quite amused by the exchange, but Cartman looked as though he was going to lose his mind at any second; the large man did not really appreciate being outwitted by a child.

"No Ayala, it's his pet name for her. It means that he's the only one who's allowed to call her _Fat Lips_ to her face, and he only does it when they're alone." Flavia quickly interjected before things got out of hand.

"Oh, I see... oops."

"Alright, with all of that settled I say I show Kyle to his room." Cartman stated before glancing at Flavia. "Flavia, you should show Ayala to hers too so that both our guests can settle in and freshen up." He added.

"It sounds good to me." Kyle agreed. "What's in store for us after that?" He then asked.

"For starters, I'm taking you out for dinner. After that, we'll see where the evening takes us." the businessman replied. "What do you have planned for Ayala?" He then asked Flavia.

"Well, I was thinking something simple for tonight, since we have big plans for tomorrow." The blonde pondered.

As a matter a fact, when the two went shopping a few days prior, the two of them had planned their Saturday: they'd get up early and go grab a simple breakfast before heading to the Hayden Planetarium and the Museum of Natural Science, and then go shopping in the afternoon. Flavia had promised Ayala that she'd cook a gourmet dinner for her and they'd end their day by playing board games together.

"Any ideas?" Flavia asked the red haired child.

"Well, how about we order pizza and watch a movie. We can always play video games or something too..." She suggested.

"That sounds like a plan! Let's show you to your room, shall we?" The assistant asked as she picked up their suitcases and the two made their way to the private elevator in order to go to Flavia's floor.

Kyle and Eric looked at the two girls disappear behind the elevator's closing doors before the redhead turned to his lover.

" _Fat Lips_ , huh?" He mocked.

"Shut up, Jew!" The larger man retorted as he picked up his lover's suitcase and showed his to his room, knowing damn well that the two of them would sleep together both nights.

* * *

Kyle buttoned up his plaid shirt and casually dabbed on some cologne before he examined himself in the mirror to make sure his hair was presentable. That's when he caught himself smiling, and it wasn't one of those fake grimaces that he'd pull around his wife. No, that was real and genuine. I could have been the fact that he and Cartman spent a few hours cuddling in front of the television before they had to get ready to go out for dinner, or maybe it was because he was looking forward to what would take place after dinner once his daughter would be fast asleep. The latter thought made a slight blush appear on his cheeks.

After one last look at himself, he confidently walked out of the washroom and found himself face to face with his lover and gasped. Cartman was dressed to kill: he was wearing a tailored suit, designer dress shoes, a bow tie, and his hair was slicked back. He was also wearing cologne, very expensive cologne, Kyle guessed. _Jesus Christ, he's so fucking hot._ The redhead was so captivated by the larger man's handsomeness that it took him a few moments before he realized that Eric was giving him a very perplexed look.

"Please tell me you brought something decent to wear." Cartman almost barked, making the lawyer finally snap out of his thoughts.

"Why? What's wrong?" Kyle retorted, not entirely understanding the problem.

"OK, take a look at what I'm wearing; now look at how you're dressed." He sighed. "I'm taking you to a restaurant with a dress code. I can't bring you there if you're dressed like a bum." He calmly explained.

"Oh, I'm really sorry, Mr. Big Shot. I wasn't expecting to go to one of these elitist dining rooms with your Royal Highness." Kyle replied in a mocking tone.

Cartman closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. It was true; he had not told Kyle that he was planning to take him to Eleven Madison Park, but he was counting on Kyle expecting such an outing. Had he known, he would have had a suit tailor made for him, but they had to be at the restaurant only fifteen minutes later.

"Fine, I'll cancel the reservation and we'll go to a Pub or something." The brunet grunted as he pulled out his cell phone.

The billionaire was about to unlock his phone when his lover rested his hand on his shoulder and tried not to laugh as best as he could.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. I do have a suit; we're going to see a Broadway after all, aren't we?" He chuckled as Cartman's face grew as red as a tomato.

"You sneaky, sneaky Jew, I should have known better! Go on and get changed! We have to leave in like, five minutes." He spluttered.

Kyle was going back to his room when he turned around to face the taller man.

"You know, it might go even faster if you help me get undressed." He added with a wink.

A blush rose on the larger man's face as he simply checked out his lover from head to toe.

"Don't tempt the devil just yet." He muttered just loudly enough for Kyle to hear.

* * *

Kyle felt as though he was inebriated although he had barely drunk during the evening. Maybe it was because of the endless teasing, or perhaps it was walking with his lover through Madison Square Garden under a starry sky. It could have also been playing footsies under the table at one of the fanciest restaurants in all of New York, or maybe it was longing for Cartman's touch and knowing it was strictly forbidden in public. Whatever the reason for the redhead's light-headedness, he knew his lover felt the same way.

The evening had been magical for both of them; they had finally gotten back to the One Madison and stepped into the elevator that would bring them to Eric's condo. The instant the doors closed, they threw their arms around each other and exchanged a few passionate kisses while Kyle started to unbutton the larger man's shirt.

Once they arrived at the triplex and the doors opened, Cartman broke the kiss and grabbed Kyle by the tie, lead him to his room like a dog on a leash and made him sit on his bed. He then slowly unbuttoned and removed the redhead's shirt; it was like unwrapping a much desired Christmas gift. He did the same thing with his pants and once the smaller man was down to his underwear, Eric pulled away from him and flashed him a devious smile before he went searching for something in his goody drawer.

"What are you looking for?" The redhead asked as he caught his breath.

The businessman pulled a bottle of lube as well as a silk blindfold from his drawer and set them on his night stand before he embraced his lover and started to kiss his shoulder, then his neck.

"I want to try something." He whispered before his cell phone buzzed.

Cartman completely ignored his mobile device locked his lips to Kyle's instead. Kyle surrendered to the kiss and gently moaned as he felt his man gently remove his undergarments, therefore exposing his hardened member. A shiver went down his spine when he felt the brunet's hand lightly caressing his manhood as he broke the kiss and felt his tongue tracing from his chest all the way to his crotch. He couldn't help but gasp when he finally felt the warmth of Eric's mouth on his manhood. Every time his tip brushed against his lover's throat, the redhead saw stars and soon, he loudly grunted as he was on the edge of climaxing.

"Not so fast! I have better plans." Eric said after he abruptly pulled away from the panting redhead and grabbed the black blindfold instead.

"So what's that thing you want to try?" Kyle questioned.

"Sit back, Jew." He simply ordered.

Eager to find out what Cartman had planned for him, Kyle did as he was told. His lover let one end of the silky fabric fall on the redhead's thighs and gently started to tickle him. Kyle loved the sensation of silk lightly brushing against his skin as his lover slowly dragged the fabric from his thighs all the way up to his neck.

"You know, Khal, when you lose one of your senses, the others start to compensate." Eric claimed as he placed the fabric over his lover's eyes. "The sounds are crisper; the smells are sharper; the flavours are more intense." He continued as he carefully tied the blindfold behind the mountain of red curls, bringing his mouth mere inches from his ears. "But most importantly, one becomes very, very sensitive to touch." He whispered while he caressed Kyle's jaw line with his fingertip and relished as he watched him shiver and moan until his phone started to buzz once more.

"Aren't you gonna get that?" Kyle asked. "Who keeps calling you?" He further inquired.

"Fuck them! This is more important." He simply stated as he traced his lover's chest with his finger tip.

Cartman was right; each time Kyle felt his teasing touch, it was as though small jolts of electricity were going through him and each time, he'd practically beg for more: more caresses, more light kisses, more love nibbles. He particularly enjoyed when he could feel Eric's breath on his skin as it would literally make his head spin. Overwhelmed with desire, he felt as though he was about to explode.

"Fuck me." Kyle demanded, prompting Cartman to chuckle.

"You're in no position to make demands, Khal. You're gonna have to try harder." He teased.

"Cartman, please fuck me." He sighed, a little annoyed by his partner's lack of cooperation.

"Come on, Khal; you can do better than this." He drawled playfully.

Kyle growled and drew in a deep breath as he felt a rush of heat rise in his cheeks.

"God damn it, Fat Ass! Just fuck me already!" He shouted as he threw himself on top of the brunet, completely taking him by surprise.

Eric burst into laughter for a moment before the redhead shut him up with a passionate kiss. The annoying cell phone started to buzz again, but the couple was too caught up to even realize it.

"Your wish is my command." Cartman whispered after he broke the kiss.

In a swift movement, the businessman swayed himself so he could be on top, grabbed the lube bottle and applied a generous amount on his stiff boner. He lifted Kyle's legs and rested them on his shoulders before he carefully started pressing his manhood against the Jew's tight little. Kyle hissed as gently tenderly entered him, but once he was all the way in, the hiss turned into a deep, satisfied moan. The larger man slowly started to thrust in and out the redhead, picking up the pace as he felt his partner relax under him.

The hisses were soon replaced by moans as Cartman slowed his pace and with each thrust, he slid his member in as deep as it could reach at slightly different angles until Kyle let go a deep, stretched moan followed by a gasp. _Bingo!_ Cartman had just found his lover's prostate and he knew it was time to go all out.

Cartman's thrusts became quicker and deeper, each time hitting the tender spot; Kyle's moans turned into passionate screams. The cell phone buzzed yet another time, but neither of them heard it and even if they did, they would have simply ignored it as they did previously. Soon, Kyle screamed one last time while Eric emitted a deep grunt as the two of the climaxed.

It took a moment for the two lovers to catch their breath before the brunet removed the blindfold off of his lover's eyes.

"What did you think of the blindfold?" He slyly interrogated.

"It wasn't bad, but..." Kyle replied as a faint smirk appeared on his face.

"But what? Go on..." He gently encouraged.

"I don't think it's my thing. I guess I like seeing a little too much."

"That's odd; I was under the impression that you didn't mind to be oblivious. You know, with you rising Adam as though he was your own and all..." He smugly concluded.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Kyle spat as he sat up and glared at Eric.

"Oh, please Khal! Don't give me that shit; the kid looks nothing like you or your wife. You wanna know who he looks like? He looks exactly like Stan Marsh." The businessman dryly retorted.

Evidently ticked off, Kyle opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. The expression of anger on Kyle's face slowly faded while he and Eric started into each other's eyes. The awkward silence seemed to last forever before it was broken by yet another buzzing sound.

"You should really answer that; it could be an emergency." Kyle whimpered as he pointed to the device.

"Don't change the topic, Khal. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait; you're more important right now." The businessman retaliated as he grabbed his device and shut it off without even glancing at the screen. "Now that we won't be interrupted anymore, let's talk."

"Talk about what? How my son doesn't look like me? You're right; I've thought about that many times. Last time I remember touching Rebecca was when we were still living in California." Kyle fretted nervously as his gaze shifted to the floor.

"What the fuck Kyle! Why the hell-" The businessman began but got interrupted.

"Cartman, it's not that easy; she told me I was drunk, too drunk to remember. I believe her because after your mother left South Park, I was drinking every night until I blacked out." Kyle shamefully admitted.

"What does my mom have to do with this?" Cartman wondered.

"The only reason I accepted to move back to South Park was to see you if you ever came to visit Liane. I know it sounds dumb but I didn't care about taking over the firm, or being close to my parents." The redhead specified as tried to repress tears from rising in his eyes.

Eric felt as though someone stabbed him in the heart when he heard Kyle's words. When he had found out that Kyle was moving back to the little mountain town, he turned down every single one of his mom's invitations. He was even the one who purchased the house in Maine and paid his stepfather to convince Liane to move there because he didn't want to risk seeing Kyle. But that was before; now, he would have done anything to be with the redhead every single day for the rest of his life.

"Don't stop." He mumbled in a broken voice.

"Look, I've done some really, really terrible things to Rebecca: I've cheated on her numerous times. Heck! I'm betraying her as we speak, so I really didn't expect her to remain faithful." He blurted.

"Earth to Khal! We're not talking about Rebecca fucking random dudes here; we're talking about your best friend knocking up your wife and you being stuck raising him!" The brunet jeered as he got up and started pacing.

"Cartman, we don't know that for sure." The lawyer interjected.

Eric suddenly stopped all his pacing around, turned to his lover and lifted his chin to force him to look into his eyes.

"There's only one way to find out: take one of his hairs, or nail clippings, or whatever and bring it to Dr. Mephesto." He proposed.

Kyle sighed and pulled away from the larger man.

"And then what?" He asked in a monotone voice.

"And then you divorce that bitch if she tricked you into raising a kid that isn't yours." He declared with a self-satisfied grin.

Kyle rolled his eyes and sighed.

"What good will it do? Adam will still be someone else's son and I won't be able to protect my daughter from Rebecca because she'll surely get custody given my history with alcohol. I don't have a choice!" The redhead explained.

"Yes, you do. You always have a choice." Cartman softly uttered as he took Kyle's hands in his and smiled.

"In that case, why are you getting engaged to Tiffany?" Kyle almost barked.

Cartman's smile vanished as he sighed.

"I wish I could tell you, but I can't say anything to you yet. Rest assured that our marriage will be short-lived; I won't put myself through unnecessary misery like you were doing, that's for sure." Eric admitted.

The two of them were now sitting on the edge of Carman's bed, completely naked and holding hands. Both got a little lost in their thoughts; Cartman was seeing a very bright future with Tiffany being the only shadow, whereas Kyle was looking at his ten years of sorrow with Ayala being the only ray of sunshine.

They stayed like that for an undisclosed amount of time before either of them had the strength or the will to say anything until Kyle slowly turned to the man he had been in love with for so many years.

"I'll go see Dr. Mephesto and make a decision based on the result. Whether I stay with Rebecca or not, if Stan turns out to be Adam's biological father, he's going to owe me and Bebe one heck of an explanation." Kyle decided.

Upon hearing his words, Cartman produced a faint smile and brought his lips to his lover's.

"It's only a start, but I'm proud of you." He said as he pulled his lips away.

* * *

"Good morning Mrs. Broflovski! What can I get you on this beautiful Saturday morning?" Exclaimed a cheerful voice.

"Hello, Mr. Tweek, could I please get two large coffees to go?" Rebecca ordered.

"Coming right up!" The barista replied as he turned to fill her order.

She had offered her brother-in-law to help him with the firm over the weekend, hoping that it could somewhat compensate for her husband being out of town, offer that Ike gladly and gratefully accepted. She stopped to grab some coffee before going, figuring that the gesture would be appreciated.

Once her she got her coffees, she went back to her car and took a quick look at herself in the rearview mirror before turned it on. Content at how good she looked, she glanced at the time before putting the vehicle on drive; it was almost ten o'clock in the morning. _I wonder how well the blonde bitch slept last night – I bet she looks like total shit this morning._ She thought as she roared with laughter.

On the previous day, the brunette had dropped off her son at her mother's place after she drove Kyle and Ayala to the airport. It was the first time she had the house to herself overnight since her children were born and she had decided to treat herself. She bought a nice bottle of wine with some cheeses, nuts and other little appetizers to consume while she watched _Desperate Housewives_ , the show she related to the most. She had also taken the time to do her nails and to apply a mud mask on her face.

The fact that her daughter had to suffer for her scheme to work didn't bother her one bit, quite on the contrary; Ayala was the reason that she had to deal with that wretched blonde cunt in the first place.

She pulled herself out of her thoughts when she turned into the firm's parking lot and stopped her car. She looked at herself once more before she exited the vehicle and noticed that she hadn't stopped smiling since her husband and daughter left town.

"Good morning Ike! I got us some coffee." Rebecca exclaimed as she walked into the firm and headed towards her husband's office.

"'Becca, you are God sent! Thank you so much." Ike replied as he closed a folder in front of him.

"So, bro-in-law, how can I help you today?" She asked as she handed him the hot beverage.

"There's a file on Donna's desk under the name _Leonards_. I need you to go through the call log and highlight all outbound calls made between June thirtieth and October first of last year to this number." He explained as he handed a piece of paper with the number in question scribbled on it.

"No problem. Where should I sit?" She asked as she took the piece of paper.

"You can use Donna's desk. Come see me when you'll be done. Oh, and if you have any questions, don't hesitate." He instructed her.

"Alright, boss." She acknowledged in a playful tone as she took a few steps towards the door.

"Oh, one last thing before you go." Ike said, making Rebecca stop dead in her tracks. "Thank you; you have no idea how much this means to me." He added with a genuine smile.

Rebecca nodded at her brother-in-law and made her way to Donna's desk where she grabbed the Leonards file and pulled out a highlighter as well as a ruler. She went through about ten pages of the call log before she started to get really bored with her task. She glanced around Donna's desk and an orange file stood out from the usual green files that her husband used for clients; as a matter a fact, Kyle only used orange files for matters that pertained to his immediate or extended family. Curiosity got the best of the brunette and she reached out for the file. She gasped and her heart skipped a beat when she saw who the file belonged to. _Flavia Fornari – Divorce._

Rebecca quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Ike was still in her husband's office before she carefully opened the file and started to look through it. She discovered that Flavia wasn't lying in Hawaii when she claimed to have a husband; the guy's name was Thomas Latendresse and that he was Canadian. The marriage certificate was issued fifteen years prior. She also found the request that Kyle had made to the Canadian government in order to locate Flavia's husband to serve him the divorce papers.

The last thing she uncovered was a folder containing two lists of assets and the documents to support them: one list was of the common assets she had with her husband, and the second list was her own personal assets. Her jaw dropped when she read through the assets that Flavia had been acquiring for the past decade. Incredulous, the brunette opened the envelope marked _CF Corps_ and immediately started to laugh hysterically when she finally understood what was going on. Without hesitation, she quickly penned down Thomas Latendresse's contact information.

"This is some really, really juicy dirt I got on that blonde bitch!" She thought out loud.

"What's going on Becca?" She heard Ike ask from her husband's office.

"I was thinking about the pear I had for breakfast. It was really nice and juicy." She nervously retorted.

"And what was so funny about it?" Ike continued as he got up and stepped towards the office's door.

Rebecca immediately closed the orange file and hid the piece of paper with Flavia's husband's information into her pocket before she grabbed a highlighter and tried her best to look natural.

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how it's a shame kyle won't get to taste any of these fruits since he's out of town." She nonchalantly answered her brother-in-law who was now resting against the office's door frame.

"Whatever you say, Becca." He sighed before going back in.


	12. When dreams turn to nightmares

I apologize for how long it took me to write this. this was a very tough chapter for me to write; I must have scrapped at least ten times, only to go back to my original idea. I hope you enjoy it. I will be much more diligent and try to come up with updates every ten days at most. I want to thank all my followers for their kind words of encouragement. Seriously, i wouldn't be able to do it without you guys. You guys rock!

* * *

The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and the smell of the ocean were soothing and comforting. He was hanging out at the beach with the love of his life and the two of them had just finished building a sand castle with the help of his daughter. The little girl had decorated their masterpiece with seashells and pebbles that she had found scattered all over the place. In the distance, seagulls were performing elaborate dances as they held vocal arguments with each other.

He took a look at his lover's face in awe; his skin was glistening in the sunlight and the specks of gold in his eyes were shimmering just for him. He could have spent eternity in that exact moment, but something felt strange. He turned around and noticed a dark shadow near the trees; that shadow had long curled locks that were flowing in the wind and it was watching them from a distance. Suddenly, the seagulls went quiet, the sky gradually turned to black and the ocean's waves became completely erratic. He glanced over where his loved ones were and he was horrified to see his lover and his child melt like wax statues. He opened his mouth to scream in despair, but no sound came out.

He felt as though someone was breathing over him and when he turned around, the shadow was mere inches away from him and he heard it hum the nuptial march, that's when he realized who it was.

"You thought I'd allow you leave, didn't you? You thought I'd set you free without putting up a fight? Have you forgotten the vows we exchanged? You are a weak man, Kyle Broflovski. This is for the better and for the worst." The shadow softly spoke as it raised a sharp knife from its belt.

"Rebecca, please put that down. We can talk about this. Please, don't do anything stupid." He desperately implored, horrified as he watched that shining blade come closer and closer to his throat.

"Oh, please honey; you barely spoke a full sentence to me since we got married ten years ago. The two of us have nothing to speak about, but don't worry; it'll all be over very soon." She replied as she rested the cold blade on his trembling throat.

He wanted to run away, but his legs refused to move. He tried to scream for help, but his vocal chords made no sound. He was shaking with fear and soon, he felt the warmth of tears streaming down his face.

"Please, you don't have to do this." He begged.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong my love. Let me remind you the vows we exchanged once more; you and I, we are stuck together until death does us part." She snickered before she firmly pressed the blade to her husband's throat and slit it in one swift movement.

He collapsed to the ground and watched as a pool of blood gathered beneath him while his senses slowly started to fade. Her laughter filled his ears until the sound of static overpowered everything and his vision was progressively lost.

"Khal..." A soft and familiar voice called. "It's OK. You were just having a bad dream."

The redhead's eyes flew open before he glanced around the room frenetically until his eyes found Eric's. As the nightmare slowly faded away and reality became more and more concrete, Kyle swung his arms around Eric's neck and hugged him tightly.

"That dream must have been really fucked up, I mean, one second you were smiling as you slept and the next, you were twisting and turning and whimpering." Eric whispered lovingly as he rubbed the redhead's back.

Kyle was trying his best to calm his frantic breathing and had to concentrate to keep himself from crying. Although he knew it had been nothing but a dream, it had felt very real and it wasn't just because he felt the coolness of the blade against his neck and that could still hear Rebecca's voice replay in his mind; the words that his wife had spoken in his slumber were haunting him.

"Come on, let's get up. I'll make us some coffee and you can tell me all about that nightmare. It really fucked you up." Eric said as he broke his embrace and got up from his bed while Kyle was left to stare blankly at the wall.

"I haven't dreamt in years..." The redhead mumbled before a red terry cloth robe landed on his lap.

"Put this on; my place is a little chili in the morning. Besides, you don't want your daughter and Flavia seeing you walking around butt naked, do you?" Cartman ordered as he was putting on a robe himself.

Kyle complied and slipped the robe on before he got up from the bed and realized that the garment was about three to four sizes too big for him. He stood in front of the mirror and contemplated just how ridiculous he looked wearing that gigantic thing until Cartman placed himself behind him and lightly kissed his neck.

"You look adorable in my robe." Eric gently murmured.

"More like I look like an idiot." He retorted, causing Eric to chuckle and plant another kiss, this time on the cheek.

"You look fucking perfect." He declared before he grabbed his phone without looking at it, slipped in his pocket and walked to the door followed by Kyle.

While Eric headed straight to the kitchen to brew some coffee, Kyle made a quick stop in the room he was supposed to sleep in and grabbed his phone which was still hooked to the charger and turned it on as he made his way back to his lover. As he walked, he noted how incredibly quiet the house was. When he entered the kitchen, he glanced at the time; it was passed ten in the morning and he found it odd that his daughter was nowhere to be seen as she tended to be an early riser.

"I guess Ayala and Flavia had a late movie night; my daughter never sleeps in." Kyle remarked as he sat on one of the stools that were surrounding the counter.

"Flavia never sleeps in either; I guess the two of them have already left. I know she had planned a big day for the two of them." Eric retorted as he hugged his lover from behind and lightly kissed his cheek.

The silence was interrupted by Kyle's cell as it finished booting and alerted Kyle that he had new voicemail messages or new texts. The redhead casually grabbed his phone and noticed that Flavia had sent him a plethora of messages the night before. Intrigued, he clicked on the first one.

 _Your daughter is throwing up. I think she ate too much junk during the movie and I don't think all the Mountain Dew helped._

He nervously clicked on the next one.

 _This is the third time she throws up. I'm getting a little worried. I'll keep you posted._

He gasped as he opened new messages continually, one after the other.

 _Ayala keeps throwing up and now she seems really out of it. I think she needs to go to the hospital._

 _I'm really sorry for disturbing you and Eric, but Ayala was just on the floor convulsing. Could you please come upstairs? I'm about to call an ambulance._

 _I know you guys are having fun, but this is really serious. The ambulance is on its way. Please come up, I'm freaking out._

Kyle's blood froze as he understood why the house was so quiet. He quickly glanced at Eric, who was also going through his phone and had suddenly jumped up from the stool.

"I'm getting changed. Can you call me a cab?" The redhead declared with a trembling voice as he ran to the room where his luggage was left.

Rather than complying with Kyle's request, Eric called Flavia directly instead.

"It was about time! I've been trying to reach you and Kyle since last night." A tired voice answered.

"Which hospital are you at?" Eric demanded to know.

"We're at the Presbyterian."

"How's Ayala?"

"She's had better days, but she should be fine. The doctor said she has a very violent form of gastroenteritis and she was severely dehydrated when we got here around midnight."

"Are you with her?"

"Yes. She's sleeping right now, but come quickly with Kyle. I had to lie to get her treated."

"What do you mean?"

"They needed parental consent to treat her, so I told them I was Ayala's mom. Please come as quickly as possible."

"We'll be there in fifteen." He announced before terminating the call and running to his room in order to get changed.

He threw on a pair of sweats and the first t-shirt he could find before he went back to the kitchen where a sloppily dressed Kyle was pacing around like a manic.

"Is the cab here yet?" He begged to know as he turned to his lover.

"The cab will only slow us down. The hospital is within walking distance." He replied as calmly as he could.

"Let's go then!" Kyle exclaimed as he made his way to the door.

The redhead took a hold of the doorknob, but was interrupted by Eric's giant hand before he had a chance to turn it. He looked up at his lover who was fixating the floor.

"Khal, I just spoke with Flavia. Your daughter is OK, but there's something you need to know." The brunet admitted as he finally gained the courage to look into the green of Kyle's eyes.

* * *

Flavia watched Ayala sleep as the last of her intravenous drip was slowly being injected into her. The child was pale, her skin had a greenish tone and her hair was more messy than usual, but at least she was doing better than the night before. Whenever the blonde closed her eyes, she could still see the little girl shaking on the vomit stained high end marble tiles of the washroom. The most nerve racking part was when the kid laid on her back and started to gag, almost suffocating. That was when Flavia stopped trying to reach her boss and his lover in vain and finally dialed 9-1-1.

The blonde quickly glanced down at her watch; it had almost been ten minutes since she spoke with Eric. She was seriously looking forward to Kyle's arrival because she knew her time was running out. The little girl was on her third and final drip before she was to be discharged, and Flavia had lied to the hospital staff by claiming she was Rebecca. The only way she had to get out of this mess was for Kyle to sign the discharge papers.

The assistant's eyes wandered to the window where she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass. She barely recognized herself: her hair was a mess, her makeup had melted all over her face and her velvet robe was stained with vomit. She was in such a state of panic that she didn't even bother to get changed when the ambulance had arrived to get Ayala at the One Madison.

Her thoughts were interrupted when two men barged into the small hospital room. She breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized Kyle and her boss. She immediately jumped to her feet and walked over to the lawyer.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know what else to do." She whispered on the brink of tears.

"What's going on? What's wrong with my daughter?" Kyle questioned immediately.

"She was throwing up, then she seemed to snap in and out of consciousness and next thing I knew she was convulsing on the floor." She began as looked into the redhead's eyes. "I brought her here and they ran some tests. Everything kept coming back normal until the doctor noticed that she was severely dehydrated and he diagnosed her with a stomach virus. She needed to be hydrated, but they needed parental consent in order to start the treatment since she is a minor." She continued before she lowered her glance. "I had no choice but to lie to them, Kyle." She finally admitted.

"Eric told me about your little lie. Don't worry; I'll handle things with the hospital's administration." He immediately reassured her by embracing her, despite the vomit that covered her clothes. "Don't be sorry either, you did the right thing. I'm the one who is sorry; Ayala is my responsibility, not yours. It's not fair that you've had to deal with that situation alone." He whispered in her ear as he gently rubbed her back.

Cartman watched the whole ordeal and felt horrible; he felt as though this disaster was entirely his fault. He should have glanced to his phone the night before rather than silencing it and disregarding it. He looked at the little girl who was quietly resting and it broke his heart to know that every time he had disregarded his phone, it was she he was ignoring. Mere moments later, a short plump man entered the room, immediately followed by an older looking nurse.

"Good morning Mrs. Broflovski; I've just been informed that your husband has arrived." He saluted prior to turning his attention to the two gentlemen in the room. "Which one of you is the patient's father?" He inquired.

"That would be me." Kyle immediately replied.

"Nice too meet you, Mr. Broflovski. Has your wife explained to you what Ayala has gone through?" He asked while he quickly looked through the child's chart.

"Yes, my _wife_ told me that Ayala was severely dehydrated due to a virus and required immediate treatment." The redhead stated while he shook the doctor's hand.

"Indeed; your little one seems to have caught a nasty and virulent strain of gastroenteritis. To be sincere, I would not be surprised that anyone who came in contact with her might catch it, me and everyone else in this room included." The professional replied.

"Doctor if I may, since when does gastro cause convulsions and loss of consciousness?" Eric inquired, perplexed by the diagnostic.

"Well, Mister..." The doctor paused, trying to recall the brunet's name although it was never mentioned to him.

"Cartman." Eric simply informed him as he guessed the doctor's dilemma.

"Hmmm. You must get this all the time, but are you related to Eric Cartman, the business man?" The doctor playfully asked.

"I am Eric Cartman the owner and CEO of CF Corps." Eric flatly replied.

The physician's eyes grew to the size of saucers and it took him some time to get over the initial shock of speaking to a man who was considered a legend on Wall Street.

"Mr Cartman, the virus doesn't cause those ailments on its own, but it will cause dehydration. Loss of consciousness and convulsions are symptoms of severe dehydration." The healthcare professional smoothly continued.

"But she was fine all day yesterday! She hasn't complained once about feeling off." Kyle exclaimed.

"Gastro has a tendency to manifest itself very suddenly in children. In any case, she'll be fine. We treated her and now she just needs a couple of days of rest. I recommend she stays in bed as much as possible in the next couple of days and that she drinks plenty of clear fluids. Stay away from cola and other caffeinated soft drinks and offer her easy foods to digest, such as chicken broth, crackers and so on." The doctor continued. "In any case Nurse Armstrong will have you sign the discharge form and you'll be able to settle and take your little girl home. I wish you all a good rest of the day." The rotund man concluded before he turned and left the room, most likely to tend to his other patients.

* * *

"I need a drink." The blonde proclaimed.

Flavia had never been more content to get back to the place she now called home. While Kyle carried his daughter upstairs, the blonde marched right to the bar and poured herself a double whiskey which she promptly swallowed in front of her boss' incredulous eyes. She went to pour herself another one, but this time Cartman grabbed the bottle before she could do so despite the death glare his assistant gave him.

"Flavia, take it easy." He warned as calmly as he could while he looked at her in the eye.

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

"Eric, last night I thought Ayala was going to die in my arms." She began, murmuring as she shut her eyes. "While I was trying to figure out how to help her, you and Kyle were unreachable. Despite all the beatings and domestic violence I've endured, I have never been more scared in my life than last night." She continued while opening her eyes and resting her hallow gaze on Eric. "So after going through all that, when I say I want a drink; bitch, you say 'how many?'" She concluded in a calm, steady voice which was betrayed by how tense her body was.

The business man was caught completely off guard by his assistant's tone and language. He immediately let go of the bottle, which the blonde grabbed and brought directly to her lips. She took three big gulps before she grimaced and finally set the bottle back down.

"At least tell me last night was worth it?" She slurred.

"Kyle and I had a great time, yes." He admitted as he lowered his gaze to the floor.

"Did you at least make any progress towards our plan?" She dryly questioned.

"I convinced him to do a DNA test on Adam." He responded as he looked up to Flavia with a twinkle in his eye.

Eric felt a little relieved when he saw his assistant's lips produce a faint smile.

"You should go take a nice hot bath. I'll run it for you if you want." He offered.

"Thanks, but I can't let you go in the bathroom. Ayala threw up everywhere in there and I didn't exactly have time to clean it up last night." She refuted as she struggled to get up. "I'll go take care of that now." She added as she walked towards the staircase.

"You don't have to do it now. You can use my bathroom for the time being, until the cleaning lady comes tomorrow morning." Eric swiftly suggested as he got up and quickly followed the blonde.

Noticing that Flavia was ignoring his words, Cartman quickly grabbed her forearm and forced her to face him. His assistant flinched and tried to break free, but Eric refused to let her go. He thought he had seen her at her lowest months prior in Hawaii, but this time took the cake.

"You're going to sit back down on the couch while I run a bath for you and then, you're gonna go soak for a little while before you go to bed and sleep for a couple of hours." He aggressively ordered.

"Let go of me!" The blonde growled.

"No, Flavia, you listen to me; if you keep going, you're gonna kill yourself. Look, I'll clean the damn bathroom upstairs if I have to, but you're done for today." The brunet barked back.

"I need to do it! It's my responsibility! Let me go already!" She cried as she tried to escape his hold.

"What the fuck is going on?" Kyle shouted from the top of the stairs.

Eric immediately let go of Flavia and her cries instantly came to a halt. They turned to the redhead and noticed he was holding his mobile phone in his right hand.

"Flavia, I'm sorry to interrupt whatever you two were doing, but my wife wants to speak to you." The redhead stated as he came down the stairs and handed his phone to the disheveled blonde.

Flavia took the phone and took a few steps away from the two men before turning her back to them.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Fornari, my husband told me that Ayala was quite sick during the night. Is it true?" Rebecca queried in the most obnoxious fashion possible, completely taking Flavia by surprise.

"Yes, Mrs Broflovski. Your daughter was throwing up a lot. We took her to the ER but she's fine now." Flavia feebly articulated.

"Where is she now? My husband won't let me speak to her." She snarled.

"She's back at the triplex and she's sleeping. I will make sure she calls you when she wakes up." Flavia tried to assure her.

"In any case, this is the last time I let you and your boss take my daughter anywhere without me as you are clearly incapable of taking care of her. I knew it! I knew something like this would happen! Thank God you don't have kids of your own; God knows how neglected they'd be!" She berated the blonde, her voice filled with hatred and resentment.

Flavia felt dizzy as she let Rebecca's words sink in. She wasn't sure whether it was because of the alcohol, or because she believed what the brunette had just said to her, but her eyes filled with tears regardless. She felt useless and powerless, just as she had when she lost her baby all these years ago. As much as she would have liked to, she had nothing to retaliate to her words.

"I want my husband and my daughter to come back home as soon as possible. I want them both here tonight. I don't care what strings you have to pull or how many blowjobs you need to give your boss to accomplish that, but I want both of them back home before you do any more damage. Understood?" Rebecca yelled loud enough for both Eric and Kyle to hear.

"I understand." She whimpered as tears streamed down her before she handed the phone back to Kyle and ran up the stairs to retreat in her bedroom like a teenage girl filled with angst leaving Kyle and Eric dumbfounded behind her.

"Hello? Hello?" The phone was heard screaming before Kyle brought the device back to his ear.

"I gotta go." Kyle barked before terminating the call.

* * *

Kyle had been staring at the television for close to an hour although he had no idea what he was watching. He kept thinking about how a fun weekend getaway turned into a pure and utter disaster. Although the previous night had been heavenly, he couldn't even think of it in a positive manner after what had happened to his daughter. It was the first time since he reconnected with his old flame that he thought of himself as an unworthy father. _She could have died. No you idiot! No one dies from gastro in this day and age! But she was convulsing. Stop thinking about that! She's fine now and all she needs is rest._ The fact that he was sitting by himself was truly not helping his inner conflicts.

Eric had spent the past hour by Flavia's door trying everything he could think of to make her come out going as far as to threaten to fire her, but to no avail. Right after her brief conversation with Rebecca, Flavia had locked herself in her bedroom and she didn't seem to have any intentions of coming out. She kept silent despite the knocks on the door and the pleading tones. Scared that he might end up waking up Ayala, the businessman finally gave up and made his way down to the living room to join his lover.

"Did she come out?" Kyle inquired finally snapping out of his thoughts.

Cartman shook his head as he sat down next to his lover. He took a good look at the redhead: he looked tired and sick with worry. He seemed stressed out of his mind. Compared to the night before where he was acting so light hearted, Kyle seemed like a different person entirely. But above all, he looked so damn unhappy and seeing him like that made Eric feel as though he was continually getting stabbed in the heart. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around the frail looking lawyer and planted a sweet, delicate kiss on his forehead.

"I'm sorry Khal. This situation would have never occurred if I had just listened to you last night and picked up my damn phone. I royally fucked up." He whispered in his beau's ear as he brought him closer.

Kyle nodded. "You couldn't have known. Besides, Ayala will be OK. She's been treated and she just needs some rest. It's Flavia I'm worried about. I hope she's resting right now; God knows the poor woman needs it." He reassured before resting his head on his lover's shoulder.

"I hope you tear your wife a new one tomorrow when you'll see her. I don't know what she was telling Flavia before, but that last thing she screamed really pissed me off!" Eric said as he gritted his teeth.

"I'm not happy with Rebecca one bit. I understand that she's worried for our daughter, but to lash out at Flavia like that was completely uncalled for, especially since she saved our daughter for a second time." The redhead pondered as he furthered his snuggles with the gentle giant.

The cuddling couple was interrupted by the sound of bell.

"What was that noise?" Kyle muttered.

"It's the elevator's bell, and if Flavia's upstairs, that's-"Cartman started before he heard the familiar clicking of stilettos.

"Babe, I'm here. You can tell Flavia to come down." Tiffany's voice resonated in the lobby.

The two lovers immediately broke their embrace before the Trump girl caught them red handed.

"Oh my God, Tiff. What a surprise! I wasn't expecting you to come here today." Cartman loudly proclaimed, trying to sound as natural as possible.

"Oh babe, don't be silly! I couldn't just sit at home while your friend's daughter is sick and in need of her momma." She said as she finally turned the corner and faced her boyfriend and his guest. "Hi Kyle, I'm sorry your stay has to be cut short. Hopefully, you guys can reschedule once your little one feels better." She added with her eyes filled with empathy.

His emerald eyes filled with confusion, Kyle glanced at his lover hoping he'd have some sort of insight as to what was going on, but Eric seemed as oblivious as he was. Suddenly, they heard noise coming from upstairs: Falvia was finally coming out of her chamber.

"Oh, there she is!" Tiffany uttered. "Flavia, I'm here in the living room with Eric and Kyle." She shouted just loud enough to be heard across the Condo.

"We're coming." Flavia shouted back.

"Tiff, I don't mean to sound rude, but what's going on?" Eric finally decided to ask.

"Flavia didn't tell you? She spoke with my father a little earlier and explained the predicament that Ayala was in. My father was moved by the story and decided to fly Kyle and Ayala back to Colorado on board his private jet." The Trump girl gleefully explained.

Eric didn't seem pleased by his girlfriend's answer and glared at his assistant the moment she stepped into the room with Ayala by her side. The brunet no longer cared that his assistant was exhausted and looked like a zombie. He hated being kept in the dark, and she knew it, yet she still dared to go behind his back and made the decision to send back his lover and Ayala back home.

"I knew you'd be upset, but I had very little choice. This child needs her mother." Flavia told her boss, anticipating his questions before she turned to his lover. "Kyle, I hope you understand that this is in Ayala's best interests." She pleaded as she put her hand on the weak little girl's shoulder.

Kyle seemed to finally snap out of shock and nodded at Flavia's words after he took a good look at his daughter.

"Daddy, I don't want to go back to South Park yet!" The little girl weakly proclaimed as she weakly stomped her foot on the ground.

"I don't want to go back either, but when I look at how sick you are, I realize you need to be at home resting." Kyle admitted before remembering what the doctor had told him that same morning. "Miss Trump, the doctor told us that Ayala is still very contagious. I wouldn't want you to catch her virus." He immediately warned his lover's girlfriend who immediately chuckled.

"A little stomach bug doesn't scare me, I'm not really worried for that. It's getting late, and if we want to make your wife happy, we need to get going very soon."

"You're right. I have a few things of my own to put away before I can take care of Ayala's stuff. Give us about ten minutes." Kyle said as he got up from the couch.

"Flavia packed all my stuff already." The little girl muttered.

"Ayala, how about you go with your father anyway and make sure he doesn't leave anything behind?" Eric asked Ayala, who reluctantly headed towards her father's room. He then turned to Tiffany. "Babe, could I have a word in private with my assistant?"

"Sure, hon. I'll wait in the lobby." She casually replied before planting a loud, sticky peck on his cheek which made him grimace.

The moment his girlfriend was out of sight, Eric pointed to the balcony and started to walk towards the patio door. Flavia silently followed him, bracing herself for whatever was to come. Once the two were outside, Eric stared in the distance for a few moments before he turned to face the blonde.

"I understand. I get why you arranged this whole thing, but what I don't understand is why you orchestrated everything in my back. This is Kyle we're talking about." He carefully articulated.

Flavia was relieved to see that her boss took her scheming relatively well.

"I was scared you'd try to stop me." She admitted.

"Of course, I would have tried!" He barked, exasperated. "Sure, I would have wanted Kyle to stay until tomorrow, but I would have stopped you because you're caving into the bitch's demands! How could you? Was it the fatigue or the alcohol that clouded your judgement enough to send the kid back to Rebecca?" He asked, puzzled by Flavia's logic.

Flavia took a deep breath as a faint smile appeared on her face before she gave Cartman a tap on the shoulder.

"Roughly ten years ago, a good friend of mine was distraught. He had just gotten rejected by the love of his life, and he decided to cut all ties and stay out of his life in order to honour his wishes. When I asked him why he wasn't fighting for his flame, he told me that in order to succeed in life one must be able to pick their battles. Today, I understood what he meant." She calmly explained.

Cartman's eyes were starting to fill with water as his assistant spoke those words.

"That friend of yours seems like a pretty wise guy." He replied after a moment of silence, to which Flavia tenderly smiled.

"He is very wise; he also taught me to see opportunity where other people see disaster." She tried her best to console her boss. "Cheer up, Eric. The charity gala is only two months away; that gives Kyle plenty of time to get Adam's DNA tested for the plan to go forward and for Rebecca to be out of the picture for good. This is nothing but a minor setback at." She then added.

"I hope you're right." He sighed. "By the way, what the bitch told you earlier is bullshit. You take care of Ayala like a pro, and if you ask me, Rebecca is the one that isn't fit for motherhood." He added as he lightly pinched Flavia's cheek, thus making her blush.

"I think we should go back inside and say our goodbyes. I also need to get ready to give a statement." Flavia said as she grabbed the patio door handle.

"What statement?" He asked, perplexed by her declaration.

"I'll fill you in once we're alone." She simply responded before opening the door.

* * *

Rebecca was finishing her glass of wine as she surfed through the television channels, looking for no show in particular, her thoughts wandering on the day she just had instead. It had been her day of vengeance and the self-satisfied smirk on her lips was further proof that she was extremely proud of her accomplishments. She was still at the firm when she received the phone call she had been expecting from her husband and she had the delight of faking a hysterical crisis in front of her brother-in-law as well as the interns. She relished every single word she mouthed off to Flavia, and was pleasantly surprised when the blonde yielded. She was going to use her newly acquired information to make her back off, but didn't need to; that was the icing on the cake for her. _It's juicy information to have... just in case; you never know._

Her attention was brought back to the screen when a special announcement was broadcasted and what she saw nearly made her spit out her wine. The images showed that the main road in downtown South Park was being closed in order to land a plane. It took the brunette a few moments to connect the dots once the journalist started describing the events that were taking place.

"Yes Tammy, apparently ex-president Donald Trump himself had contacted the mayor a few hours ago demanding the road to be closed so that his plane could land. The story is that his daughter's boyfriend, billionaire tycoon Eric Cartman, was having a friend and his child over for the weekend and that the child got violently ill. That kid is none other than Ayala Broflovski, the little girl who nearly got abducted last spring in Hawaii and was saved by Mr. Cartman's assistant."

"Thank you Tom. Although Mr Trump refused to comment, we have received a declaration from Eric Cartman's assistant, Flavia Fornari. Let's roll the tape."

"I want to take a moment to deeply thank Mr. Trump for his immense generosity and I want to apologize to the residents of South Park for the inconvenience of this emergency landing. Little Ayala was very sick last night and we spent the night at the hospital with her. To me, Mr. Cartman and Mr. Trump, the priority was to bring a sick child back to her wailing mother. Ayala and I have grown very close as of late, and she has inspired me in many different ways. I was going to disclose this under happier circumstances, but there's no time like the present; Mr Cartman and I are proud to announce the inception of the Ayala Foundation which will have as a primary goal to prevent and educate youths about sexual assault. More information will be released throughout next week."

"It is also to be noted that Mr Cartman will personally compensate those who were affected by the closure of Main Street. If you were one of those people, please call the toll-free number at the bottom of the screen to make your claim. Back to you, Tom."

Rebecca's jaw dropped to the ground. She couldn't even blink as images of her daughter and her husband getting off the luxurious jet were playing on the screen. After what seemed like an eternity to her, she quickly gulped down the last of her wine glass. Although she had demanded for her family to be return to her on that same day, she didn't expect Flavia to deliver, let alone deliver in such a grandiose way. Once again, her private life was displayed for everyone to see, and after the scene she made at the firm earlier, she was bound to be the laughing stock amongst her husband's staff. The brunette felt panic rise in her gut; the confidence that she had found that day was starting to crumble as the images showed her husband and her daughter board Sheila's car.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed and she reached for it, her eyes still glued to the television before she glanced down to the mobile device, expecting a message from her husband. The brunette growled as she read the message and threw her phone against the wall, shattering it in a million little pieces.

 _Hi Rebecca, as you saw on the news, your husband and your daughter are back in South Park. When we spoke earlier, you seemed very distressed, so I got Sheila to go pick them up since you didn't sound like someone who should be behind the wheel. Sweet dreams –Flavia._

* * *

I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Don't be afraid to give me feedback and to let me know what you think of my story.


	13. Hair

Eric quickly glanced at his watch: this meeting had gone over its scheduled time by almost an hour and he just couldn't wait to finally get up and leave that damned conference room. Sitting next to him, his assistant was quickly penning down notes as each executive put their two cents into the debate; she had just presented the Ayala Foundation project to the board and requested their feedback. The majority of the people around the table shared their interest into adding a nonprofit charity under the CF Corps umbrella, but some of the senior members seemed skeptical towards Flavia's structure. Her idea was that if the corporation matched every donation they received from the public, not only would it make the company look good, therefore providing free publicity to it, but it would greatly benefit at the end of the fiscal year thanks to all the major tax breaks. These greedy members kept questioning Flavia's projections, and that's why the meeting was lagging.

The only thing Cartman could think about as he fidgeted with a pen and tried to suppress his annoyance to the immensely boring exchange that was going on in front of him was his upcoming Skype-date with Kyle. It had been a month since his lover visited him in his home, and the businessman yearned for the redhead's soft fingers digging into the flesh of his back. While Flavia answered redundant questions, Eric pictured himself on top of Kyle with the lawyer's legs on top of his shoulders while he was balls deep into his tight little Jewish ass. He momentarily closed his eyes in order to allow his daydream to intensify when he was knocked back into reality.

"Mr. Cartman, you can't possibly believe it's such a good idea!" One of his senior directors asked, obviously outraged by the proposition.

"I beg your pardon?" The brunet replied after blinking a few times as he tried to quickly pull himself back into reality.

"Sir, CF Corps is a company that thrives on profit. I don't believe a charity belongs under its banner, let alone the fact that we'd allow a mere assistant to manage it." He specified in a voice that dripped arrogance.

Eric drew in a deep breath and stared at the ceiling for a few moments before he sighed and looked at the man that dared to snap him out of his pleasant daydream. His assistant quickly glanced at him, her eyes pleading for help to get her project approved unanimously. It was the plan after all.

"Sir, had you taken the time to read the annex where Miss Fornari compiled in detail all of her data on the topic, you'd have understood just how beneficial the Foundation is to the company, and therefore to you. Also, the fact that you referred to Miss Fornari as a 'mere assistant' is quite offensive since she is fully capable of taking care of business as she has demonstrated in the past time and time again. Finally, could we please get the board to vote so we can finally get on with our day? Some of us have to work, you know?" He sternly answered.

"This concludes my proposition; the choice is yours. For the approval of the Ayala Foundation, we need to see a show of hands." Flavia quickly added.

It is unknown whether it was Eric's few words, or because Flavia's project was truly appreciated by the board members, but funding towards the Ayala Foundation was promptly approved. As the tycoon and his assistant left the board room, the two of them kept a stoic stance until they reached Cartman's office and entered it. Once inside, the blonde promptly shut the door so they could be alone. Cartman went to his mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of Moet out of it while Flavia got glasses from the cabinet. Once the businessman poured two glasses of the prestigious champagne, the two partners in crime clinked their flutes as they smiled at each other. The blonde's smile radiated with joy, while Cartman's exuded satisfaction.

"To your success!" Eric proudly exclaimed as he raised his glass.

"To our success!" Flavia immediately corrected. "To be sincere, I doubt the project would have gone through if it wasn't for you putting that old schmuck back in his place." She sadly admitted.

Eric smiled, knowing all too well what was going through his assistant's mind. He looked back on how he used to be treated at the stock exchange when he first got his chair as a junior director on the board. He recalled how his ideas were promptly shut down, or downright ignored by the old boys club, no matter how good and revolutionary they were. He remembered how furious he used to get when one of his original plans would be brought up by one of the seniors who then got all the praise and the acclaim in his place. He had to swallow a lot of pride and rage during these years before he founded CF Corps and finally became its main shareholder, thus practically getting the final say on every motion.

"You'll show them what you're made of, Flavia." Eric softly reassured his assistant before finishing his champagne. "If you don't mind, I was supposed to Skype Khal an hour ago."

Flavia nodded and quickly finished her bubbly beverage before she grabbed both of their glasses and went out the door, heading to the employee kitchen.

Once alone, the businessman sat behind his dark oak desk and called up his old flame. Despite the frequency at which they skyped each other, Cartman still felt as though butterflies were dancing in his gut while he waited for his lover to accept his call. His turmoil was to vanish the moment he'd see red curls appear on the screen.

"Finally! What took you so long?"

"Sorry, I was stuck in a meeting. Some of my board members were being very unreceptive towards Flavia's plan for the Foundation and they kept badgering her with the same questions over and over again."

"Oh! Shit! that sucks for her. How is she handling the pressure?"

"If she was capable of putting up with me for ten years, she can pretty much handle anything. She'll be fine. Enough about her; how have you been? Is your daughter feeling better?"

The lawyer lowered his glance and sighed. Eric didn't even need to hear Kyle's response; his body did all the talking for him. There was so much sorrow and worry on his face that the businessman understood that his beau's life hadn't gotten better since the last time they had spoken a few days prior.

"It's always the same thing: Monday mornings, she's fine, then like clockwork, she starts throwing up Thursday evenings and then she is sick until Sunday afternoon where she starts to feel better. Magically, Monday mornings, she's healthy as a fish. I'm bracing myself for her to get sick again tomorrow." He sighed evidently concerned.

"Have you taken her to see the doctor?"

"Rebecca did, twice. They keep diagnosing gastroenteritis. It's as though she keeps relapsing, week after week!"

"I asked if you took her, not Rebecca." The brunet insisted.

"Well no, I have a firm to run."

"I also take you didn't steal one of your alleged son's hairs either, am I right?" He suspiciously asked only to be answered by Kyle shaking his head.

Cartman didn't trust his lover's wife, not after the footage Flavia had shown him months prior, not a single little bit. He had been trying to get Kyle to visit him again since the last time, but with Ayala constantly ill, their escapade kept getting postponed, and he was growing impatient. More so, the redhead hadn't gone to Mephisto to verify whether he truly was Adam's father. He also suspected that the object of his affection was drinking heavily again, as it was his method of choice to cope with stress. He had sworn himself to not intervene; however, the situation was not improving. Kyle needed some tough love, whether he liked it or not. A plan was starting to form in the businessman's head.

"Alright Jew, I gotta go for now, but keep me posted."

"Sure." The redhead awkwardly mumbled before he brought his face closer to the webcam. "I love you." He then whispered, causing the larger man to blush.

"So do I." He reciprocated before concluding the short call.

He then grabbed his handset and dialed Flavia's extension in order to give her some instructions.

"Yes, Mr. Cartman?" She said when she picked up.

"I need you to find us a flight to Denver for this afternoon. I also need you to book us a room in South Park from tonight until Sunday at least. Once you've done those two things, you are to go home immediately and pack some luggage for us." He requested.

"Very well, Sir." She replied at first. "Wait, what?" She then uttered as the information sank in and she immediately hung up the phone.

"Ok, what's going on?" She demanded to know as she barged into Cartman's office.

"There's someone I need to check up on." He simply informed her.

"Is it regarding Ayala? Is she sick again?" The assistant inquired.

"There's that, but there's also the fact that Kyle still hasn't gotten Adam's DNA tested." He specified.

"Eric, I get it, but won't the two of us seem completely obsessed by the Broflovski?" She worried as she recalled her last conversation with Rebecca.

"I don't give a shit about what people may assume, furthermore, I heard that the Denkins are selling their Ranch and I might be interested." He smugly reiterated.

"Ah! I see. I'm on it." Flavia said as her lips formed a smile.

Flavia went back to her desk, delicately closing her boss' door on her way out. Once alone, Eric gave his girlfriend a call to let her know where he'd be spending the upcoming days, citing business as his prime motivator. Tiffany was very disappointed; she explained how she wanted to spend more time with him and how it wasn't fair to leave with little to no notice. She tried to invite herself, which made the brunet cringe, but in the end, he managed to dissuade her. He had just hung up when Flavia stormed into his office once more.

"You cannot possibly be serious!" She cried.

"What's the matter? No flights are available?" He gasped.

"No, I easily found that, it's not the issue." She replied, indignation still present in her voice.

"So, what the fuck is the problem?"

"The only hotel in South Park rents rooms by the hour." She shrieked.

"Yeah, Super Motel 7." He nonchalantly replied.

"You cannot be serious! Let's at least go to the Hilton in Conifer." She tried to compromise.

"That's too far; Super Motel 7 it is." He insisted.

"That's fucking disgusting!" She proclaimed.

"As long as you don't bring a black light, we should be fine." He tried joking, but the statement made his assistant even more uncomfortable.

"Ok, fine. I'll bring bed sheets, pillows, and blankets from home then." She surrendered.

"You'll have to wash the crap out of them when we'll come back home." He mocked.

"More like I'll burn them, that is!" She snickered before exiting Eric's office once more.

* * *

Rebecca was in the garage fiddling with a gallon of Prestone when she was startled by the sound of the doorbell. As a matter a fact, the brunette had waited for her husband to finish dinner and barricade himself in his study before sneaking into her least favourite room of the house armed with a syringe. Alarmed that her husband may catch her red-handed, she set down the antifreeze and ran to open the front door without first checking who was on the other side. To her shock and dismay, she found Flavia, who was wearing a very revealing red dress, standing on her porch. The blonde's outfit was so flashy that she never even noticed that Eric Cartman was standing right behind his assistant.

"Good evening, Mrs. Broflovski. Is your husband home by any chance?" The blonde very politely asked.

"How dare you show your face here, dressed like a whore nonetheless? Get off my property before I call the cops!" She spat before she tried shutting the door.

Cartman caught the door and pushed on it to keep it open, startling the life out of Rebecca.

"I don't appreciate you referring to my assistant as a whore." The businessman sternly declared.

Rebecca froze for a few moments as her brain processed what had just occurred.

"Let me ask you once more; is Mr. Broflovski home?" The blonde vocalized.

Before the brunette had time to reply, the sound of a door opening and closing was heard coming from the inside of the house.

"What's the matter?" Kyle asked before he walked over to the entrance. "What are the two of you doing here?" He asked the moment he saw the businessman and his assistant. "What are you waiting for, Rebecca. Let them in already." He finally ordered.

Rebecca reluctantly moved aside and watched her husband's childhood friend and the blonde that she detested entering her home.

"Hi, Khal. I'm really sorry for disturbing you, but my assistant and I are in town for business and we were wondering if we could check up on Ayala while we're here." The brunet revealed as he walked in, followed by his Flavia.

"You're in South Park for business?" Kyle asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, I might make an offer on the old ranch and turn it into a resort. I booked an appointment to check it out tomorrow, but before I tell you all about it, could I possibly use the washroom?"

"Of course! It's right over there." Kyle replied before he pointed to the specific door.

"Thanks, I won't be long."

"Hurry up, Mr. Cartman. I need to go as well." Flavia declared.

"Come on Flavia, you don't need to wait. You can use the washroom upstairs; it's the second door to the left." Kyle instructed.

The blonde thanked him and swiftly climbed the stairs under Rebecca's hateful glare. She easily found the washroom and once she locked herself in, her search began. To Flavia's dismay, Rebecca was a neat freak and finding what she was looking for was more challenging than she had originally imagined. While she was on her way to Colorado with her boss, he had explained his detailed plan to her, and although she had immediately expressed her dislike for it, she quickly accepted to be a participant the moment Ayala's wellbeing was brought up.

She had searched every nook and cranny of the bathroom for what she was looking for but in vain. She knew that the clock was ticking and that Rebecca or Kyle may have knocked on the door at any given moment to check up on her when a desperate idea crossed her mind. She carefully pulled back the bathtub's curtain, trying to minimize the sound of metal rings scratching against the metal rod and glanced down at the drain. Superficially, it seemed pristine clean until she unscrewed the cap and found a clump of mostly red hairs caught in the basket. She meticulously spread it apart and held it in the light until she found exactly what she had been looking for: one lone black hair. She plucked it from the lump and delicately placed it into a small baggie marked 'A.B.' She then tossed the rest of the lump into the toilet, flushed it and screwed the cap back. The last thing she did after washing her hands was to gently close the curtain before she finally exited the washroom.

Once in the hallway, the blonde heard familiar voices coming from the only bedroom that had its lights on and directly headed to it. Inside, Cartman was seated on the edge of Ayala's bed while the little girl was giggling and sitting on his lap, her tiny arms wrapped around his large shoulders. Flavia tenderly smiled at the scene she was witnessing before Kyle caught her attention and she saw the expression on his face; the redhead's eyes were glued to the two people he cherished the most in his life. Flavia was so moved by the scene that her composure almost broke as tears tried to rise in her eyes. When the little girl broke her embrace and turned towards Flavia, it had the effect of a cold shower despite all the giggling she had doing: she looked much skinnier, her eyes were hollowed and her lips had a bluish, unhealthy glow.

"Flavia! You're here for real!" The little girl squealed as she jumped off Eric's lap and ran to the blonde. "I thought I was dreaming again." She added as she tightly hugged Flavia.

"You've been dreaming of me?" The blonde questioned as she tried to keep her cracking voice in check while she rested her hands on the child's shoulders.

"All the time. In my last dream, we were all living in the same house." She explained.

Eric and Flavia had time to catch up with the child a little bit before Rebecca barged into the bedroom and announced that it was time for Ayala to go to sleep. The businessman and his assistant bid the little girl goodnight before she was tucked in by her father. Rebecca watched the whole scene with disgust apparent on her face.

"You're not kissing your daughter goodnight?" Flavia directly asked the brunette.

Rebecca chose to ignore the blonde altogether and pointed at the door, indicating that she wanted everyone out of her kid's bedroom. Once everyone complied, she set a bottle of Mountain Dew on Ayala's night table before she went downstairs and headed directly to the kitchen.

"Can I offer you guys anything to drink?" Kyle asked once all of them were downstairs.

"Thank you for the offer, but we need to get going." Cartman replied.

"When are you heading back to New York?" Kyle inquired.

"We're supposed to leave Sunday, don't worry; we'll make time to hang out at some point before we go back home." The brunet discreetly winked.

Flavia and Eric were being walked out by Kyle when the blonde got a glimpse of what was in the garage. The door hadn't been shut properly and there were cases of Mountain Dew stacked next to an opened gallon of Prestone. A vile thought ran through Flavia's mind; a thought so terrible in nature that it sent shivers down her spine.

"Kyle, could I take you up on your previous offer and ask you for a Mountain Dew to go?" The blonde requested.

"Of course!" He exclaimed as he turned and made his way to the kitchen where Rebecca was unloading the dishwasher.

He opened the fridge to grab the beverage that Flavia had requested under his wife's horrified eyes.

"Don't drink that! It's for our daughter!" The brunette exclaimed.

"Calm down; you have cases upon cases of this stuff in the garage. I'm sure Ayala won't mind sharing this one bottle with Flavia!" He went on, disregarding his wife.

* * *

Flavia felt all eyes turn in her direction as she entered Skeeter's bar by herself. The place looked like the shitty bars she used to find her estranged husband late at night: the bar was filled mostly with men in their thirties and older; the carpet looked as though it hadn't been cleaned in decades and a strong scent of stale beer lingered in the air. It wasn't the type of place she'd go to by her own initiative, but she had a mission to fulfill. She glanced around until she found the man she was looking for sitting at the bar.

As she started to walk in his direction, some of the men sitting at the tables started to whistle, howl and cat call the blushing blonde. She was wearing a short dress that left very little to the imagination as well as big flashy jewelry and a ton of makeup. As those men gave her their undivided attention, Flavia held her head high despite the embarrassment she felt in her core and sat right next to the raven haired man she came to see.

"Holy shit! You're Cartman's hot assistant! I'm sorry; I forgot your name." The man greeted.

"Flavia Fornari. Hello Mr. Marsh, it's a pleasure to see a friendly face in such a hostile environment." She gracefully admitted.

"Please, call me Stan. Can I get you a drink, Miss Fornari?" He gleefully offered.

"That would be great. Oh, and please call me Flavia." She gladly accepted as she rested her hand on his, causing him to blush ever so slightly.

"Yo, Skeeter! Could I get two pints over here?" He loudly ordered.

"Coming right up, Marsh." The orange haired bartender replied as he grabbed two beer mugs.

Stan glanced at his companion and smirked. He could have been wrong, but it seemed that the blonde was looking at him in an enticing way. With his mind clouded by alcohol, the raven haired man made a bold move and rested his hand on Flavia's knee and waited to see her reaction. Much to his delight, Flavia very slightly spread her legs, inviting him to feel her up in her most private area. Stan was about to oblige when Skeeter showed up with their beers.

"There you go!" The bartender declared before he leaned towards Flavia. "Don't waste your time with this loser; he's got a wife and a kid at home, plus you could do much better." He whispered to her before going on with his work.

Flavia smiled at the man with orange hair, grabbed her beer and turned to Stan.

"Thank you for the beer, Stan. I'm anxious to get to know you better." She teased with a wink and a grin, making Stan's face just a little redder.

"So, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in such a sketchy bar?" He asked as his hand resumed the exploration of Flavia's thigh.

Flavia suddenly felt extremely nauseous; she wasn't sure whether she felt that way because the beer was watered down and absolutely vile, or because Stan Marsh seriously repulsed her. Had it been entirely up to her, she would have slapped the guy across the face and left that trashy bar, but the stakes were high. She absolutely needed to retrieve what she had been sent to obtain.

"I felt like drinking shitty beer." She finally responded once she was confident that her voice wouldn't crack.

"What brings you to South Park then?" He went on.

The blonde began to panic when she felt that Stan had successfully moved her underwear to the side and was now caressing her bare lady parts. She was thankful that they were sitting at the bar and no one was able to see what was going on beneath her revealing dress. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt heat rise in her face when the raven haired man discreetly slid a finger inside of her. She immediately quaffed down all the nasty beer she had left.

"Business." She squeaked after she slammed the empty mug on the bar.

Stan kept babbling on, mostly about himself, while Flavia caught the bartender's attention and indicated that she wanted another round of beers. As soon as the beverages were brought, Flavia guzzled down half of the pint; the more alcohol she got in her system, the less she minded getting felt up by someone who was practically a stranger. The bartender noticed what was going on and he gave the blonde a concerned look. She nodded to let him know that everything was OK. Flavia allowed herself to be felt up and listened to Stan's pointless monolog for close to an hour as she kept ordering him drinks. She was beginning to grow impatient when the black haired man finally leaned in.

"Alright hot tits, how about you stop being a major cock tease and we just cut to the chase?" He slurred in her ear.

Despite the fact that he had just slobbered all over her hair, Flavia was relieved; she was finally going to obtain what she came for.

"I'll go to the little girl's room. Count to one hundred, then come in and join me." She leered before she got up to her feet and glanced around.

She easily found the sign for the washroom and swiftly marched right into it. The ladies room consisted of a single stall and it looked as though it hadn't been cleaned in ages: The top of the sink had a thick layer of dust; cobwebs were hanging from the ceiling and the mirror was smudged with unknown substances. Flavia was completely grossed out by the location she was in and completely disgusted by what she was about to do. To make matters worse, the single light bulb that was used to illuminate the room kept flashing on and off at a rate that could have easily triggered a seizure.

Moments later, the intoxicated raven haired man entered the room and took care of locking the door. Flavia was leaning against the filthy sink, trying her best not to tremble, while waiting for Stan to make a move on her. He slowly stepped towards her and cupped her face. Breathing heavily out of anticipation, he slowly rested his lips on hers and kissed her tenderly at first. The blonde could barely tolerate the smell of crappy beer as he breathed on her, but when he changed the pace and aggressively slipped his tongue in her mouth, the taste made her definitely inclined to vomit. _I'm doing this for Ayala._ She repeated that mantra endlessly in her head; it gave her the necessary resilience to go forward.

Stan was much taller than her, and that was somewhat of an obstacle for her to get what she came for until he decided that he was done kissing her mouth and he started to kiss her neck. Flavia took that opportunity to start messing with his hair until she felt one of them getting stuck in the prongs of her ring. With the other hand, she pushed his head into her neckline and glanced at her ring. Despite the flashing light, there it was; Stan Marsh's DNA. Now that she got what she needed, she had no more use for him.

Without warning, the blonde pushed him away. Stan was visibly confused by her shift in behaviour.

"You better go back before they send a searching party." Flavia coldly snarled as unlocked the door.

Disappointed, Stan obliged and opened the door to show himself out.

"One last beer?" He pitifully requested.

"Get out!" She shouted before she grabbed the door, slammed it and locked it.

Finally alone, she inserted the hair into a second baggie marked 'S.M' after carefully removing it from the claws of her ring. She called Eric to inform him that her mission was successful and that it was time to go pick her up. She asked him to enter the bar just in case Stan would try something stupid; he was drunk out of his mind, thus unpredictable.

Less than ten minutes later, Eric entered the bar and walked right over to Skeeter himself.

"Excuse me. Have you seen an attractive blonde woman around?" Eric investigated.

"Yeah, we all did. That fucktard over there has been all over her since she stepped in." He replied as he pointed to Stan Marsh. "I guess he spooked her because the little lady's been in the washroom for a while now." He continued.

"Fuck you, Skeeter! Where's that beer I asked for?" Stan hollered.

"You've had enough for tonight." Skeeter retorted.

"I'll tell you when I've had enough!" The raven haired man yelled back.

"Well, thank you for the info." Cartman acknowledged before removing himself from a potential bar fight.

He easily found Flavia and the two of them discretely left the slimy bar as a fight was about to go down between Skeeter and Stan.

"I need a shower." The blonde declared the moment she was in the safety of her boss' rental car. "I regret inviting that sleaze ball to the fund raiser." She added.

"You're the one who decided to go full-fledged Vixen on him. All I asked for was a hair." The businessman reminded her.

"What was I supposed to do? Go up to him and be all like 'Excuse me, Mr. Marsh. May I please have a DNA sample from you?'" She sneered.

"You could have kept it to small talk and then said something similar to 'Don't move! There's something on your head.' and then just reached for it." He joked.

"That's not suspicious at all, right? Oh my God! How will I look his wife in the eye now?" She lamented.

"I wouldn't worry too much about that if I were you. You saw how smashed he was? I bet he won't remember a thing when he'll wake up tomorrow." He reassured.

"I hope so." She sighed.

"Nice hickey by the way!" He teased.

Flavia gasped and quickly opened her purse to reach for her mirror while Eric was laughing at her.

"That motherfucker!" She yelled as she saw the massive bruise on top of her collarbone.

* * *

Flavia was sitting on the porch of the derelict Motel room that she was sharing with her boss. She had waited for him to finally go to bed before she snuck armed with her mobile phone. She sat on the stairs and reached into her robe's pocket for a cigarette and her lighter before she manually dialed a number on her cell. As the phone rang, she lit up her smoke and took a nice, long drag from it.

"Hello?"

"Hi Trent, it's Flavia. I need your services." She whispered.

"I'm listening."

"Before I tell you what I need, you need to promise that Mr. Cartman will never find out about this."

"Anything for you, ma'am Flavia."

"Do you know any scientists? Chemists, to be more precise."

"I know a few people that make dope. What do you need?"

"No, not in that sense. I mean an actual chemist that knows what he or she is doing and that has access to a lab."

"I know someone just like that."

"Perfect. Meet me in Times Square Monday morning at seven. I'll be at the usual bench wearing my usual wig. We'll discuss the deal and the payment then."

"Understood."


	14. Gut feeling

Cartman and his assistant had flown back to New York City the previous night from their short trip to South Park. The multi-billionaire had achieved his two main goals during that trip: he got a sample of Adam's DNA tested for it to be compared to Stan Marsh's and he made an offer on the old Denkin's Ranch. Dr Mephisto had been paid upfront and he was instructed to send the results via express courier to his New York office the moment they'd be ready. As for the Ranch, he had initially thought of turning it into some sort of resort, but after visiting the facilities, he realized that too much work was needed to turn it into one. He was about to tell the real estate agent to forget it when he had a brilliant idea: he was going to turn it into an organic farm and he'd use part of the land to build himself a new vacation home. Flavia wholeheartedly agreed with the vacation home idea since Super Motel 7 had disgusted her beyond words.

Eric was having breakfast while watching the news when he heard the sound of Flavia's heels clicking as she walked over to call the elevator. He wondered why she was ready so early since they rarely got to the office before eight in the morning.

"You're up and ready early this morning. Why are you going to the office this early?" He casually asked before he took another bite from his toast.

"I'm not. I may be actually be a few minutes late. I have a medical appointment at seven." She lied through her teeth.

"Is everything alright?" He queried as he turned to face her.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just an annual check up." She lied to him once again before she pressed the button to call the elevator.

"Alright then. I'll see you at the office." He nodded prior to going back to his breakfast.

Flavia was relieved as she entered the elevator; she had feared that her boss would have asked her what was in the giant bag that she was carrying and as soon as the doors closed, she pulled her costume from it. It consisted of a beige trench coat, large brown sunglasses and a long, straight black wig. She rapidly put on her disguise before she reached the ground floor and headed towards the metro station on the 28th street. Roughly fifteen minutes later, the blonde sat on the bench where she patiently waited five minutes before Trent Boyett sat next to her.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" The ex-convict asked once he was seated.

Flavia pulled a smaller bag out of the gigantic one as well as a thick brown envelope and handed both of them to him. The small bag contained three bottles of Mountain Dew: the one Ayala had left at the One Madison, the one Kyle gave to Flavia a few days prior and one that she had purchased at the airport the night before for control purposes.

"I need the content of these three bottles analysed and compared. I can give you two thousand dollars for now and you'll get the balance once I have the results in hand." She carefully explained while Trent peeked inside the bag he was just handed.

"Ma'am Flavia, those are bottles of soft drinks." He remarked.

"Yes, and I believe someone slipped a substance in it, Prestone to be more exact. The problem is that I need proof." She started. "Also, no matter what happens, Mr. Cartman can't know anything about this, not yet at least." She clearly disclosed.

"I understand and I'll get it done, but I want to know whether this money comes from you, or is it Cartman's cash?" He inquired.

"It's mine. I'd never use my boss' money without his knowledge and permission." She admitted.

"Well, in that case, I don't want it." He proclaimed as he handed the envelope back to the blonde.

"What do you mean? Trent, this is very important! A life might be in danger if I don't get to the bottom of this!" She implored him.

"Ma'am Flavia, I said I'll get it done, but your money is no good for me." He smiled.

"What do you mean by that?" She wondered, almost offended.

"I have no problem taking fatso's money after what he put me through in the past, but it's a different story when it comes to you. You're the only person that treats me like I'm a human being and not some sort of monster." He tenderly clarified as he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

She started at him, dumbfounded. There was something about the way he glanced at her that gave her a strange sensation, but a somewhat pleasant one. She watched as the blond got up from the bench and walked away with the bag. A blush rose in her cheeks; she was uncertain as to what had provoked it for good, but as the last sentence he uttered prior to leaving looped in her head, over and over again. He had never used such a tender tone to address her ever before.

* * *

While his family was gathered at the table and having breakfast, Kyle was deep in thought. As a matter a fact, despite how loudly his wife was bickering, he had completely blocked out the sound of her voice as he played around with the food on his plate. He had tried to eat his meal, but the lump in his throat made it impossible for him to swallow anything.

Cartman and Flavia had showed up on Wednesday evening of the previous week. That night, he was looking forward at the prospect of spending some time alone with his lover, but then Thursday came and just like clockwork, Ayala was sick once more. He was sad he had to turn down his offer to spend time with him over the upcoming week end, but he didn't want to be away from his child when she was so direly ill. As usual, once Sunday rolled around, the child was doing much better.

He quickly glanced at his daughter, and despite her thinning figure and her tired eyes, one could have never guessed that she had been convulsing on the bathroom floor only twenty four hours prior. He had stopped taking her to work after they came back from their New York escapade. Rebecca had been acting much more motherly since Ayala's first gastro episode and Kyle figured a firm was the last place where you'd want to take a sick kid.

"Kyle, honey; you barely touched your breakfast." The voice of his wife pulled him out of his thoughts and brought his attention to the plate in front of him.

The waffle on his plate looked exactly like his life: unappealing, cold and crumbling. As that thought crossed his mind, the lump in his throat doubled in size and he wondered how much longer he could put up with the charade. His relationship with Rebecca was bad enough, but watching his child suffer for days on end was really starting to take a toll on him. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to keep his sanity under those conditions.

"I'm not hungry." He mumbled as he got up.

Without looking at his wife once, he quickly kissed his daughter and ruffled Adam's hair before he grabbed his keys and his briefcase and headed for the door. While Rebecca was busy clearing the table, Ayala swiftly ran after her father and caught him right as he was about to enter the garage.

"Take me with you." She implored him.

"Sweetie, you know you need to rest. Why don't you go put a movie on to watch with your brother?"

"But daddy, I am sick and tired of resting." She began as tears gathered in her eyes. "That's all I've been doing for weeks." She continued as the tears fell. "I don't want to stay locked up at home anymore!"

Kyle threw his arms around his little girl as he fought his own tears. He could barely breathe as the lump in his throat tripled in size. His child was as miserable as he was; it must have been the Broflovski blood.

"Ayala, an office is no place for a child, let alone a sick one. You belong at home where your mother can take care of you." Rebecca lectured as she stepped towards them and clutched the child's shoulder, pulling her away from her father.

It took a moment for Kyle to realize that his little girl was no longer in his arms. Instead, she was a few feet away from him and she was desperately trying to break free from her mother's tight grasp. Her face was red, her eyes were puffy and she was hiccupping uncontrollably. Kyle recognized that expression; he had seen it numerous times in the mirror being reflected back at him. He knew she felt trapped in that house. So did he.

He glared at his wife; he was angry with her. Ayala had come to him, not to her. Yet, Rebecca had to butt in and take charge of the situation. As if she wasn't being insolent enough, the bitch was smugly smiling at him as her nails were digging into the little girl's shoulder, causing her to wince.

"Please, daddy." The child wailed.

"Ayala, your father will be late for work." Rebecca loudly reprimanded her, digging her nails a little more into the little girl's flesh.

"Ouch!" The girl cried out in pain.

Kyle snapped. The moment his wife physically hurt the child, he saw red. He lunged towards the brunette, grabbed the arm that she was clenching her daughter with and released his daughter. He then violently pushed Rebecca whose back hit the wall before she fell butt first to the ground. She was about to get back up and give her husband an earful, but stopped dead in her tracks and instead remained on the floor once he gave her the look of death.

He turned his attention to the crying child; he could still see the marks of Rebecca's nails on her collar bone and drew in a deep breath in order to calm himself down before he'd do anything stupid. He instead focused his attention on his daughter's green eyes; she was imploring him not to leave her behind. He reached for his cell phone; his mind was made up.

"Good morning Donna, how are you?" He said once his assistant picked up. "Listen, I have a situation at home, but long story short, I'll be working from here today." He declared. "Yes, I'll be available all day and if there's anything, just give me a ring. I'll see you tomorrow." He concluded as he locked his device.

"Ayala, would you like to keep me company in my study while I work?" He tenderly asked his daughter.

The little girl sniffled and nodded before she ran up the stairs to her room to gather a couple of things to bring in her father's study. Once his daughter was out of sight, he turned to his wife. Rebecca's face was contorted with anger and she hadn't yet dared to get up. Kyle looked down upon her, his stare as cold as ice and his fists shaking by his sides.

"If you hurt her one more time, I swear to God there'll be hell to pay!" He solemnly warned.

Rebecca looked up at her husband and locked eyes with him: her glare was filled with hatred and contempt; her face was red and she was gritting her teeth. She was livid, and it showed.

"Hurt her? I did nothing to hurt her! That brat is born to be an actress. I can't believe you bought her lies!" She hollered as she got herself up and stood inches away from her husband's face.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

* * *

Ayala was in her room gathering her stuff as she trembled while tears streamed down her face when she heard the loud slap followed by a whimper. She gasped in shock at first, but as she figured out what had just gone down between her parents, she felt queasy as horror overcame her. Dropping her items on the floor, she quickly grabbed her phone and managed to find the contact she was looking for despite her shaking hands. _'Pick up! Pick up! Pick up! Please, pick up!'_ She prayed as the phone rang.

"Hi Ayala! What a pleasant surprise!" The cheerful voice greeted.

The child opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out of it. Frustrated by her inability to speak, the girl started to sob.

"Hello? Ayala, why are you crying? What's wrong?" The voice at the other end of the line was now filled with worry.

"Flavia..." The redhead was finally able to mumble before her crying intensified.

"Take your time, hon. Take deep breaths, just like I showed you in Hawaii." The agitated blonde said as calmly as she could.

The little girl complied and took a series of relaxing breaths after she closed her eyes. She continued for almost a minute before she was able to say anything.

"My parents are fighting. Daddy pushed mom on the ground, and I think he just hit her." She whimpered as her voice cracked.

The conversation went silent. Ayala couldn't see it, but miles away in New York City, in CF Corps Tower, Flavia's jaw dropped. The blonde couldn't believe what the little girl had just told her. As the words sank in, images of Tom and what he used to do her rushed through her head. No matter how hard she tried, she was unable to picture Kyle as a wife batterer. Then again, no one ever pictured her soon-to-be-ex-husband as one either.

"Are you hurt?" Flavia finally had the courage to ask once she regained her spirits.

"No."

The blonde breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you want to tell me what they're arguing about?" She calmly inquired.

"They're fighting over me!" The redhead desperately cried.

"Alright sweetie, calm down. Tell me what happened."

* * *

Kyle was seeing the world through a haze; he thought he'd be used to it since he was a heavy drinker, but this blurriness was different. He wasn't sluggish and incoherent, quite the contrary: he was alert and ready. He didn't remember exactly what had transpired, but his wife was standing in front of him while she held her left cheek with both hands protectively. The last recent memory he had was that of a loud clapping sound. Finally, Rebecca faced him and looked him in the eyes while she took her hands away from her face.

Kyle gasped when he saw the red hand print on her face. In ten years of marriage, he never once lifted a finger on his wife, no matter what she had done. For a moment, he thought someone had broken into his house and attacked Rebecca, but the tingling in his right hand was yet more evidence of what he had done. It was the first time that the lawyer raised his hand on a woman, a new low in his book.

He was just beginning to feel remorseful when Rebecca started to laugh manically. Her laughter was chill inducing and dripped with triumph. Kyle felt the blood draining from his face; he had no idea of what was going through her mind.

"You're such a pathetic little man, Kyle. You're so self-righteous about doing the right thing, but then you turn around and assault your wife, you sick fucker!" She shouted at her husband.

The lawyer just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear for good. His wife was right; no matter what she had done to Ayala, more violence wasn't the answer. He suddenly thought of his lover's assistant and his heart sank even further. How was he supposed to look her in the eye as he handled her divorce from a man that used her as a punching bag?

Without adding a single word, he grabbed his briefcase and headed to his study where he locked the door behind him. He sat at his desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch which he promptly opened and brought to his lips. After four large gulps of the burning liquid, he set the bottle down next to him and held his head with both hands. He thought of the consequences of his actions and his heart sank.

It was becoming more and more clear that his marriage was truly over and that he could no longer live with Rebecca without putting his family members at risk. At that point, the only viable option was to divorce her, but at what cost? His wife had demonstrated once again that she was not to be trusted around Ayala. It was now crystal clear that her recent behaviour towards her daughter was completely bogus. He needed to take Ayala as far away from this toxic environment as possible, but would he get custody? Between his drinking problem and the fact that he had just slapped his wife across the face, he estimated his chances were slim to none.

A thought also occurred to him: if Rebecca clawed Ayala in front of him, what was she doing to her behind his back? The way his wife did it was so discreet that was he not paying close attention to the child's shoulder, he would have never known what was being done to her. For a moment he wondered if she was abusive towards Adam as well; he strongly doubted it since she was always showering him with praise and attention.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of shouting coming from the second floor. He got up and opened his office door to better hear what his wife was screaming.

"What were you doing on the phone with her? How many times have I told you that you're not allowed to call her?"

"But mommy, she's my friend!" Ayala vehemently protested.

"She is ruining our family!" Rebecca screamed at the top of her lungs.

He had a moment of hesitation: he was undecided as to whether he'd run upstairs to defend his daughter and risk losing his temper again, or should he have stayed put and let Rebecca and Ayala figure things out on their own. The choice was easy: Ayala was well worth the risk.

He quickly made his way up the stairs and barged into his daughter room. Inside, his wife was trying to pry Ayala's cell phone out of her hand while his child resisted her mother despite her skinny frame. He immediately went to stand between the two in order to stop the madness and made sure that his wife let go of the cell phone.

"That's enough!" He growled before he turned to his daughter. "Sweetie, grab your stuff and go in my study. I'll be right there." He softly requested.

The little redhead nodded and promptly picked up the items she had gathered previously from the floor before she ran out of her room. Once she was out of sight, Kyle faced the harpy he had been married to for the past decade. She was unrecognizable. Rebecca used to be sweet and attentive when they first got married; now, she was just bitter and mean. He felt his heart tighten at the thought that he had made her that way. He broke her.

"What are you going to do, punch me this time?" She sneered, hoping to provoke him.

Kyle sighed and closed his eyes before he turned his back to her in order to exit the room.

"You're not worth it."

* * *

Flavia's heart was pounding in her chest. The phone call she had received was disturbing to say the least and although the line had been cut for several minutes, the blonde was still holding her mobile to her ear. After everything Ayala had told her, she was worried sick for the little girl. The way the call ended, the mix between Ayala's cries and Rebecca's screams, sent shivers down her spine. The last words she heard before the call was terminated were haunting her; she kept rehearing it, over and over.

" _She is ruining our family!"_

The blonde had been wondering why Ayala hadn't called her since her dramatic departure from New York and now that she discovered that it was Rebecca who forbade it, things were finally starting to fall into place. _She fears me._

If her gut feeling was correct, Rebecca had been poisoning her child slowly, over time. The thought that a mother was capable of doing such a dark deed petrified her to no avail. Memories of Ayala convulsing on the floor made her shed a few tears which she promptly wiped off her face. At least, she could find solace in the fact that she told Ayala not to drink that wretched soft drink anymore before their conversation was cut short. _Why would she want Ayala dead?_

Worrying about what Rebecca could do was bad enough on its own, but now she had to worry about Kyle as well. The thought that he raised his hand on his wife chilled her to the core. From how Ayala described, it appeared as though he was trying to defend his child, but that was no justification in Flavia's book. She preferred siding with precaution: if he could hit the wife, he could also hit the kid. _Had he ever done it before?_

She needed to speak to her boss as soon as possible to let him know what had transpired, but he was in the middle of a conference call with an important client and his legal team. The assistant kept glancing at her handset, but alas the flickering blue light next to his extension number indicated that he was not yet finished.

She wanted to crawl out of her skin; there was nothing for her to do but wait patiently for Eric to be finished before she could discuss the situation with him and come up with a plan. In any case, nothing could be done before the DNA test results and the Mountain Dew analysis came back. It's not like the two could just fly back to Colorado to abduct Ayala and her father and take them back to New York, no matter how tempted she was by the idea.

The blue light finally stopped flickering; Cartman's conference call had finally ended. Without hesitation, Flavia barged into her boss's office, startling him half to death.

"What the fuck, Flavia?" He croaked.

"It's about Ayala and Kyle. " She started as Cartman stood up. "They're in big trouble."

"Tell me everything." He gasped.


	15. Answers

Eric closed his eyes as he felt the hot water run down his body; the warmth felt good against his skin. It felt as though all the doubts he had recently harbored against his lover were being washed off his body. He had been on edge for the past three days; ever since his assistant had barged into his office to inform him of the disturbing call she had received from Ayala, his mind had been racing. As a matter a fact, the billionaire hadn't been able to sleep properly since then. His heart was imploring him to drop everything and to make another trip to his native little town in Colorado, but his head firmly ordered him to remain in New York and to take care of his business. His business was in the middle of setting up a charity under its banner and his shareholders needed to be reassured and pleased. He had promised himself he wouldn't intervene until he at least had the DNA test results from Mephisto in hand.

No matter how hard he tried to suppress Kyle from his mind, thoughts of him kept swarming his head. There was no way on Earth that a goody two shoes like Kyle could have raised his hand on a woman; there had to be a better explanation. Catching himself thinking of his long-distance lover, he pondered upon how long he had been in the shower and promptly turned the water off once he realized that he had finished washing himself twenty minutes prior.

Cartman grabbed a towel and promptly started to dry his body off before he let himself out of the shower. Noticing that the mirror was foggy, he swept it twice using his towel before he took a good look at himself and noticed that the bags under his eyes did not lie about his mental state. He cringed as he recalled that he had to give a presentation to the board mere hours later and he was nowhere close to ready for it. He shrugged and told himself he'd wing it the way he did for the vast majority of his oral presentations while he was a student.

Making his way back to his chamber, the businessman tossed his towel on the ground, selected one of his favorite designer suits and then proceeded to get dressed as rapidly as he could since he was running behind schedule. Once he looked impeccable, he quickly made his way to the kitchen where his assistant was finishing her coffee as she stared blankly in front of her.

"Good morning Flavia!" He exclaimed.

She completely ignored him and went on to take a sip of the steaming cup of coffee she was clenching. Annoyed by the blonde's insolence, he simply shrugged and walked over to the coffee machine and was shocked when he realized that the pot was empty. He suddenly turned to glare at Flavia who gave him no heed.

"Hey Flavia, would you mind telling me why you omitted to make coffee for me?" He barked as he glared at her,

The blonde's eyes immediately shifted to her boss. She seemed quite annoyed.

"Hey Eric, would you mind telling me why you refuse to do anything at a time where your boyfriend clearly needs you?" She promptly snarled back.

Eric groaned before he stared at the ceiling. The two of them had been fighting constantly since Flavia received that wretched call.

"Flavia, there is no point going back to South Park if we have no proof that Rebecca is a lying, manipulative cunt-" He began before Flavia got up from her seat, marched straight to him, leaving her coffee behind,

"You don't need DNA test results to fucking call him and check up on him!" She snapped as she narrowed her eyes on her boss.

Eric stared at his assistant with dismissal; what was she going to do? He had made up his mind and until he got the DNA test results proving that Kyle had been raising another man's son, there was nothing more he was capable of doing to help his childhood friend.

Flavia was also staring at her boss, but instead of disdain, it was with pure disappointment. After much thought and much consideration, Flavia came to the conclusion that Kyle's actions were an incident due to his miserable family life. She was convinced that her boss's words could have helped to soothe the red-haired man, but he had categorically refused to contact him.

Just as Cartman was about to finally blabber out a rebuke to his assistant's question, Flavia's phone beeped and her attention immediately shifted from her boss to her mobile device. He watched as his assistant quickly forgot about his existence and ran to the table where her phone was laying. The worry on her face seemed to gradually loosen as her eyes narrowed in on the screen. She quickly texted a few words before she locked her phone and hastily put it away in her blazer's front pocket.

"Very well; sit this one out." She sighed as she hastily grabbed her purse and ran up the stairs to her apartments. "It's up to me to do the dirty work anyway." She mumbled under her breath, just loudly enough for Cartman to hear her.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He barked, insulted by his assistant's insolence. He waited several moments for her reply, but in vain.

She quietly groaned; the day hadn't even started yet, and Cartman already wished it was over. _How could this morning get any worst?_

"Something came up and I'll be late at the office. Don't wait for me to start the presentation." Flavia informed as she ran back down the stairs carrying her handbag as well as a large bag.

Eric's heart skipped a beat.

"No, you can't do that to me! I can't do the presentation alone! I am nowhere close to ready!" He screeched as he felt a cold chill traverse his body.

"You'll be fine: I just emailed you the power point and all the cue cards are on your desk and in order. You'll ace it!" She reassured him as she called the elevator.

"Who's gonna take notes for me?" He babbled.

"Just ask one of the interns. You'll survive, I promise." She lightly consoled right before the elevators doors opened.

Flavia was about to get in when her employer blocked her path.

"This is not like you..." He gravely whispered. "Does it have anything to do with your recent doctor's appointment?" He desperately sought to know.

"Yes, Eric. Yes it does. Now if you wouldn't mind, I don't want to be late." She lied, taking advantage of the brunet's innocent speculation.

Eric immediately removed himself from her way and watched as she entered the elevator. Flavia noted how Eric's mood had drastically shifted from angered to panicked and now, to worried. She hated resorting to lying to him, but too much was at stake. She had to know for sure and she would decide whether or not to inform her boss only once she had answers.

"Keep me posted." The brunet hastily requested.

His assistant promptly flashed him a grin and a nod before she vanished behind the doors. Eric grunted loudly before he ran his hand through his hair without remembering that he had just applied a ton of gel in it; in fact, by the time he realized it, it was already too late. Now, the brunet had to wash his hair once more so that people didn't think that some squirrels had build their nest in there.

While Cartman wished he could just have gone back to bed, his assistant was throwing on her costume while the elevator took her to the ground level.

* * *

Her hands lightly trembled as she broke off a piece of her pastry and brought it to her mouth. She wasn't even remotely hungry and she wondered why she had bought that apple strudel when she got out of the metro in the first place. Mere seconds after she swallowed her morsel, her stomach began to turn and she had to suppress a gag.

She might have acted bravely in front of Cartman, but she had been uneasy ever since that text message came in. She was about to get her answers and all though she hoped for Ayala's sake that the soft drinks were clean, part of her hoped that she was correct and that Rebecca was deliberately poisoning her. If she was correct, Rebecca would be one less person to worry about in the grand scheme of things.

She just wanted Trent to show up and give her the results already, but he was still nowhere in sight. Flavia sighed as she glanced at the pigeons that were desperately scavenging for some sort of food on the sidewalk in front of her. Mindlessly, she stood up, tore another chunk from her pastry and crumbled it on the ground; she figured that since she wasn't going to eat, the logical thing to do was to share it with the birds.

She smiled when a few squabs wobbled in her direction when they first noticed the free snack. She found the whole ordeal quite amusing until she tore off the second piece to share with her newly acquired friends. The crumbs hadn't even touched the ground before she got swarmed by what seemed to be every single pigeon in times square. She couldn't help but to loudly shriek as she tried shaking herself free of those feathered pests, but to no avail; the birds would not leave her alone.

Suddenly, she felt an arm grabbing her by the waist as a hand knocked the pastry out of her hand. The moment the tasty sweet hit the ground, the birds shifted their attention to it and finally left Flavia alone. It took her a few moments to regain her spirits and to finally look up to see who had rescued her from these certainly rabid birds and as soon as she saw his face, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"You know, you should never feed pigeons; they can get quite aggressive." Trent pointed out as he gently let go of Flavia as he flashed her a cocky shit eating grin.

"I wish you had been here to tell me five minutes ago." She sarcastically replied as she checked her wig to make sure it was still on properly. To her relief, it was. "All jokes aside, do you have what I've asked you for?

"Yes." He shyly voiced as his cheeks grew pink.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Just hand it over already!" She eagerly exclaimed as she grabbed his arm and led him to the nearest bench, far away from pigeons, where they both sat down.

Trent's blush intensified as his shoulder slouched forward. He mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Speak up, Trent. What is it?" She gasped as she was growing more and more impatient.

"It's..." He began, evidently searching for the right words to say. "You know when I refused to take your money?" He began only to be interrupted by Flavia's roaring laughter.

"No worries Trent, name your price, and it's a deal." She immediately reassured him as soon as her laughter died down a little.

"I don't want money!" He instantly responded as he finally looked up in her eyes.

Something about the way he looked at her took Flavia aback. He seemed disappointed, almost offended by her proposition, but she had a lot of trouble reading the ex-convict.

"So what is it that you want? Your own flat? A sports car? High end hookers?" She finally asked him in a soft voice.

"No! I..." His voice cracked as he began to speak and quickly looked away from her. "I just want one night." He finally demanded in an embarrassed manner after taking a few deep breaths.

He noticed her eyebrow rise from behind her maxi size sunglasses as he stared back at her, huffing and puffing while he felt more heat rise in his face. Fearing that she might have completely misunderstood his intentions, he brashly filled his lungs with air.

"I just want one night... with you; it doesn't have to be sexual or anything unless you want to... Damn it!" He quickly blurted out, stumbling on half the words he used. "I was thinking of grabbing dinner or something and just talking, maybe some cuddling... But, you don't have to if you don't feel up to it." He nervously added out before waited for a reaction from her.

Any reaction would have been welcomed, but it's when she didn't give him one that he then grabbed the back of his head with both hands and sulked down as he gently groaned out of shame. _I should have known._

He was expecting her to burst into laughter at his unrealistic demand; how could a woman like her allow herself to be seen with a guy like him? She knew all the important people: public figures, millionaires, celebrities... The people he knew were drug dealers, mobsters, pimps... She belonged with the pretty people and he belonged in dark creepy alleys; why else would she have worn a disguise to meet him? He had just humiliated himself in front of a woman far out of his league.

Flavia was most definitely surprised by his request; she didn't know what to make of it! Under normal circumstances, she would have never even considered such a ridiculous request... But the life of a child was at stake; a child with whom she had bonded and that was in need of some help.

For a moment, she thought of what a date with Trent might have resembled: the two of them would meet up in a crumby bar; they'd order drinks and for every one she'd finish, he'd polish three off; some random man would begin talking to her and Trent wouldn't appreciate the competition; A bar brawl would ensue; she'd feel her senses leaving her... It'd be Tom all over again, only Trent had successfully killed multiple people whereas her husband had failed at getting rid of her.

Trent began to straighten up after a moment of silence that seemed to have lasted an eternity. He took one glance at her before his heart sank: her face was drained of all blood and she was breathing shallowly. His throat tightened when he noticed the tears escaping from the side of her gigantic sunglasses. _What have I done?_

Flavia was pulled out of her trance when she felt Trent take her hand and put something in it. To her surprise, it was an envelope. _The results_. She looked over to Trent; he had already gotten up and was beginning walking away.

She couldn't believe that he was going to let her have the test analysis results anyway. Could that have meant that she judged him too quickly? She could have gotten up and headed her way, but that wouldn't have been right.

"Wait!" She cried, halting his movements.

"Ma'am, I'm really sorry. I should have never-" He began without turning to face her only to be taken aback by her tiny arms wrapping themselves around him from behind.

"Shhh..." She uttered as she gently let go of him. She took his hand and gently guided him to face her. "I'll get in touch with you by the end of the day to set up the date." She promised.

Despite the few tears that streamed down her sunglasses from before, she produced quite a convincing grin; his face was almost purple.

"Are you sure?" He asked, incredulous.

"Absolutely." She gently nodded before she took his hand and led him back to the bench. "Let's see these results now." She declared as she ripped the envelope opened.

She shakily took the papers out and unfolded them before her eyes quickly scanned the pages. _Positive... that fucking cunt wants Ayala dead._ Her grip tightened around the sheets and she began crumpling them.

"So?" Trent broke the silence although he anticipated that Flavia was not pleased by the results.

"That lowlife, criminal bitch is poisoning her child." She gasped as she stood up, further crumpling the test results. "I'll send that bitch to jail, where animals like her belong!" She wept before she turned to face a very uncomfortable Trent. "I'm so sorry..." She immediately apologized as she realized her faux pas. "I wasn't thinking..."

"It's OK." He tried to reassure her.

"No! It's not OK!" She argued.

"Your reaction is totally normal, don't worry about it; you didn't offend me, or anything." He said as he stood up next to her. "Good people do fucked up things all the time... Look at everything you've done for Cartman." He calmly explained.

"You cannot compare me to a woman who is killing her own child!" She rebuked, offended.

"I don't know that woman, but I know you... You've done some fucked up shit for that boss of yours, ma'am Flavia." He immediately put her back in her place. "I'm just saying that maybe you shouldn't judge her so quickly." He then concluded.

Despite her unchanged composure, Trent's words had taken a toll on her ego. He was absolutely right; she was no better than Rebecca.

"I can't let her continue, Trent." She weakly murmured

"Of course not! But think about the child for a moment: how will she react when she finds out her mom was trying to kill her? How will she cope with that?" He questioned.

Once again, he was correct. Getting Rebecca arrested for attempted murder would do more harm than good in the long run. Ayala would have to deal with the psychological trauma and it could take years of therapy to resolve. Then, a grimmer thought took over her mind.

"Adam." She whispered to no one in particular.

What would happen to the little boy once the DNA test results came back? His mother would go to jail and Kyle would no longer have to take care of him. It'd be doubtful for the Marshes to take in the little boy. The toddler needed a mom, and Rebecca adored him and she was in no way, shape or form a threat to the little boy.

Flavia had to come up with an entirely new plan, and she had to hurry up: Professor Mephisto promised that the results would be shipped in five business days, and that was going to be the subsequent day, therefore the results would be on her boss's desk Monday morning. She took a look at the time: she had to be on her way so she wouldn't get to the office past ten o'clock.

"Thanks for everything Trent." She quickly thanked him.

"It's nothing, ma'am. Please don't mention it." He grinned at her.

"No, I mean it! Thanks for everything, especially the little talk." She insisted as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I'll be in touch so we can plan our little date. Make sure your phone is on and near you at all times." She quickly winked before she let go of him and began her walk to the metro station.

* * *

One by one, the board members got up from their seat. Some of them mingled among themselves, others left right away and a few of them had gone to shake his hand and congratulate him on the presentation he had just finished giving. Cartman shook their hands and made small talk such as the outcome of the latest Patriot's game and of course, the weather. Once he was finally able to get rid of these executives, his intern handed him the notes from the meeting and he was finally free to go right back to his office.

Much to his relief, his assistant had already arrived at the office and she was focusing on her computer screen with her headphones on. Cartman knew that if she had to get work done quickly, she'd blast music in her ears and ignore anything else as she took care of business. She paid so little attention to the outside world that her boss was able to sneak next to her and tap her shoulder without her ever noticing his presence.

Upon feeling a hand on her shoulder, the blonde screamed as she ripped the headphones off of her. Her expression went from frightened to annoyed when she realized that her boss laughing his ass off while all other nearby colleagues glared at her.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, but I wanted to thank you for your impeccable prep: the presentation went better than I ever could imagine, and it's mainly thanks to you." He complimented.

"Hum, you're welcome..." Flavia muttered uncomfortably.

"Is everything OK? How did the medical appointment go?" He asked, worried apparent in his eyes.

"Yeah, that went fine, but... there's something I need to talk to you about." She responded as she tried to suppress her feelings of guilt.

She quickly glanced from Cartman's eyes to his office door and back and walked over to it, grabbing the doorknob. Recognizing her cue, her boss immediately followed her in as she opened the door.

"Mr. Cartman, while I was on my way to the office, I have received an email from the decorator whom you've hired to renovate to Jenkins ranch and I have scheduled an appointment with her for tomorrow afternoon." She began.

"What?" He asked, mortified. "I need you here, at the office." He added.

"I'll be reachable, don't worry. I'll have an intern fill in for me as of noon today since I am planning to arrive in Denver in the evening." She continued, disregarding his pleas.

"I don't think you understood me; I need you here, In New York." He angrily pleaded.

"Eric, I am leaving for Colorado today and I'll be back Saturday evening. If there's anything outstanding, I'll take care of it on Sunday." She insisted.

"The answer is no." He confidently proclaimed as he crossed his arms.

"My mind is made up; I need a break from this place and besides, it's not like I'm going to Colorado to fuck around. Besides, I'll go collect the results from Professor Mephisto myself; you'll get the result one day earlier." She held her ground.

"I swear to God, Flavia! If you leave, I will fire you!" He warned, unamused by his assistant's insubordination.

Flavia smiled at her boss and pat his shoulder twice.

"So be it; I guess I can leave early." She bluffed as she made her way back to the door.

"No!" Cartman yelled out, scared that she might actually leave his employment. "Don't leave me now!" He roared as he threw himself at the door that his assistant was about to open and blocked her access.

Flavia gave him _the stare._ He had known her long enough to know that once her mind was made up about something, nothing could stand in her way, not even him. He slowly removed himself from the door and allowed her to pass through.

"I'll be back Saturday evening, boss." She assured.

"Let me know what time you'll be back at so I can send a car for you." He gently said as she was about to step out.

"Don't worry about me; I'll make the necessary arrangements." She giggled as she walked out, leaving Cartman alone in his office.

Once he shut the door behind his assistant, he turned and leaned his back on it. The past few days had taken a toll on his relationship with Flavia and as much as he didn't want to admit it to himself, she needed time away from him and he needed time off of from her. A little break would do a world of good to both of them and then, they could finalize a plan to reach their ultimate plan.

 _Breaks are healthy, breaks are good. You took a break from Khal, you can take one from Flavia._

Suddenly, he felt his mobile buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out, expecting it to be one of the board members whom might have had a question. He looked at the caller ID and saw it was Tiffany. He groaned and immediately sent the call to voicemail.

Who was he kidding? In that moment, he was just as lonely as he had been after his talk with Sheila a decade prior only this time, he had himself to blame. He had felt too awkward to even call his boyfriend in a time where he needed all the support he could get, and with his assistant gone for two days, the Universe had taken his revenge by having Tiffany, the last person he wanted to hear from, give him a call.

 _Breaks are the worst! Breaks suck ass! I am miserable without Khal and fighting with Flavia is pointless._

He put his mobile back in his pocket and walked over to his chair. He typed his password into his computer before he sat down and opened Skype. He felt his heart rate slightly accelerate before he clicked on Kyle's profile after he checked the time. Kyle should've been at the office by then... with a little bit of luck, he could steal five minutes from him.

"Good morning." The redhead greeted as he picked up the call. "I'm at work, Cartman. What do you want?" He added lowering his voice.

"I just wanted to know how you were doing. It's been a few days since we last spoke..." The brunet awkwardly asked.

"I assume Flavia told you..." He mumbled, obviously embarrassed.

"Yeah, she did but... Khal, I just want you to know that I don't know what happened that day and how it got to that, but I don't think any less of you, and deep inside, neither does Flavia." He wholeheartedly admitted.

Kyle just glared into the webcam without uttering a single sound.

"Just know that you have our support, OK?" The brunet sighed.

"I don't think you should speak on her behalf." He dryly responded.

"Fine, fair enough. You have my support. I am here for you, OK?" He finally confessed.

The lawyer stared blankly at the webcam before a faint smile formed on his face.

"Thanks, Cartman. I really needed to hear that from you." He admitted .

At loss for words, the businessman blushed, prompting his long-distance lover to giggle at his disposition.

"Well, I just wanted you to know that, and..." He paused as examined Kyle's beauty despite the image constantly lagging. "I miss you and I can't wait to hold you in my arms again." He finished.

Kyle quickly peeked towards his office door to make sure no one was nearby before he leaned towards the webcam and blew his boyfriend a kiss.

"Me too. Talk to you soon." The redhead said before he terminated the connection.

Cartman was closing the application when Flavia knocked on his door once more and let herself in.

"I thought you needed to get out of here.." Cartman sneered at his assistant.

"I had to finalize a couple of things. Oh, by the way, did you talk to Tiff?" The blonde quickly remembered to ask her boss.

"No, but I saw she called and I was about to phone her back." He bragged as if it had actually been part of his priorities.

"Let me fill you in on the details; she was canceling your date for tomorrow night since she'll be in South Park with me to meet the decorator with me. Don't pester me about hiring a bodyguard for her; I have someone lined up for that job." The blonde immediately reported.

"Wait, what?" He uttered, taken aback.

The next evening, he was supposed to spend time with his girlfriend; the two of them had decided to have dinner together and to hit the nightclubs afterward. Cartman was not looking forward to it, so the news came to him as a welcomed change of plans. That was until he realized that he'd be all alone, and he hadn't spent a single night by himself in nearly a decade.

"Hey, what am I supposed to do all alone tomorrow evening?" He suddenly shrieked.

"Mr. Trump wants to have dinner with you, and you alone." She began. "You know what that means, right?" She quizzed.

"Hold on a second! Where the hell was I when all this shit got planned behind my back?" He demanded, frustrated.

"You were right here in his office, Mr. Cartman." His assistant began to explain. "Tiff called me because she couldn't reach you on your cell to let you know that her father insists to meet with you tomorrow evening and that he has much to discuss. That's why I offered her to meet me in South Park and help me decorate the Ranch."

"So Trump Sr. wants to talk to me so badly that he'd force his daughter to cancel a date with me so I can be all his, huh?" The brunet smiled as he understood what it meant.

"Indeed. I think he wants to know what your intentions with his daughter are, and you'll have to ask him for her hand. Once you have his blessing, you propose at the Ayala Foundation fundraiser" She gleamed.

Cartman drew in a deep breath, then slowly released it. He knew that it was bound to happen sooner or later, but shit was hitting the fan much faster than he had previously anticipated. The ring had been purchased months prior and their relationship had actually progressed, but his heart belonged to someone else. Nonetheless, it was all part of the plan; Tiffany would be his wife and Kyle would be his lover until the goal was reached.

"You do realize that at this point, there's no going back, right?" Cartman sternly asked.

"I believe you were the one who taught me that you either had to shit, or you had to get off the pot." She replied with a smirk before she checked her watch. "I need to go now, but if there's anything major during my absence, you can always give me a call." She reminded him before she opened the door.

"Flavia." He called, prompting her to stop in her tracks. "Enjoy your time off and thanks for everything." He added.

She smiled and nodded at her boss before she left.

 _Playtime is over, it's time to take out the big guns._

* * *

Flavia had just finished packing her light suitcase for her short stay in Colorado; this time, she had booked rooms at the Mountain Comfort Bed and Breakfast in Alma, just a short drive from South Park, which meant she didn't need to bring sheets and blankets from home. She had already dialed his number three times without getting an answer. Time was running against her if her crazy plan had a chance of working. Each time she heard the ringing sound in her ear, she would panic just a little more.

"Hello? Ma'am Flavia?" He finally answered.

"Trent, thank goodness you picked up." She exclaimed, thankful that she was finally talking to him.

"My apologies, I was in the shower." He tried to justify.

"It doesn't matter: If you can meet me at the airport in precisely one hour, you get to make a lot of money thanks to Mister Cartman and on top of it, you get to spend the night with me." She explained.

"What's the nature of the work?" He asked, skeptical towards her offer.

"You'll have to protect Tiffany Trump during her short stay in Colorado. I'll fill you in on the details when we meet up. I'll text you the dock number. All you have to do is bring two days worth of clothing and your ID. The rest is taken care of."

"What do you mean by protecting?" He asked, a little bewildered.

"Body Guard. You're done doing dirty jobs, Trent. You're worth more than that." She announced as she bit her lower lip.

"And, what did you mean by me spending the night with you?" He investigated.

"We arrive in Denver and we either grab dinner and spend the night there, or we can go to Alma directly since we'll spend tomorrow night there anyway and order take out." She enumerated the choices.

"It's your choice ma'am, whatever you prefer." He shyly replied.

"You said that you were taking me on a date. You don't have to choose right now, just make sure you meet me in an hour at the latest. Standby for the dock number." She rebuked before she cut the line.

She was a little nervous about spending the night with Trent; her opinion of him had drastically changed in a very short period of time and he was quite attractive.

Flavia slapped herself across the face in order to regain some focus on reality. She needed to call three more people before she had to call a cab to get to the airport. She pulled this plan out of her ass, and she was hoping to God it was going to work; the odds were stacked against her.

Calling Mephisto would be a piece of cake; all she needed to say was that she'd pick up the results in person.

The second one was Sheila Broflovski; she remembered how she was welcomed by Kyle's mother the previous times she had been to South Park and she expected her full cooperation.

The third person was the one Flavia dreaded calling the most: Rebecca Broflovski. Due to their history together, the blonde had very little respect for Kyle's wife, but she'd have to try and convince the woman to hear her out.

Her work was cut out for her.

 _Fuck._


	16. The art of the deal Part I

_Hi,_

 _You have reached the voicemail of Rebecca Broflovski._

 _I am unable to take your call for the moment, so please leave me a brief message as well as your name and number, and I will call you back as soon as I can._

Flavia hung up, once again. She had known that getting through to that woman would have been nearly impossible; three times she called her and three times she was sent straight to voicemail. She was sitting next to Trent at the airport while they waited for the gate to open so that they could finally board the plane and make the trip to Colorado.

"She still ain't answering?" Trent casually asked her.

The blonde shook her head as she let out a frustrated grunt.

"How about you text her? She'll have to see it whether she wants to or not." He suggested.

"I thought of that, but what if Kyle sees it too?" She rebuked.

"Just tell her to delete the texts once she has read them. Between you and me, I don't think she'll want her husband to read a text about what she's been up to." He added.

"I can't explicitly tell her the point of my visit! What if she destroys the evidence?" She nervously whispered as she looked around to see if anyone was listening. "I was going to keep things vague so that I could have the element of surprise." She added.

"Even if she does, it's no biggie: a blood test on the kid and it's case closed. The point is to make her understand that she has no choice but to meet you." He smugly proclaimed before he snatched the device out of Flavia's hands. "Here, let me do it." He smiled as he typed before he proudly turned the screen to her once he was finished.

 _I know what you've been putting in the Mountain Dew. We need to talk. I will call you again tonight at precisely 7:30 to make arrangements. If you fail to comply, there will be dire consequences. Make sure to delete this message before your husband sees it. Flavia._

"So, what do you think?"

"Not bad... not bad at all!" She laughed, pleased by Trent's written intimidation skills.

"Do I press send?"

"Absolutely!" She exclaimed before he pressed the button.

As Trent handed the mobile back to Flavia, the gate doors finally opened. The two of them got up and went to stand in line with the other passengers in order to board the plane.

* * *

Rebecca's phone rang once more; she had a good feeling about who was calling her. The blonde had already tried to call her several times, each time interrupting her laundry folding. Every time, she flushed the call; she wanted nothing to do with her. Once again, she finished folding the towel she was holding, only to see that this time, it was her mother-in-law that was calling.

"Good afternoon Sheila, how are you?" She pleasantly greeted once she picked up.

"I'm fine Becca, I'm excellent actually. Gerald and I just came back home from a shopping spree in Denver! He bought me the bracelet that I've been wanting for a while." Sheila exclaimed gleefully.

"The one with the emeralds and diamonds? Did you get it in white or yellow gold?" She excitedly asked. Rebecca was very fond of fine jewelry and merely talking about sparkly gems lifted her spirits.

"In yellow, of course! I don't understand why people would go for white gold or platinum; the stuff looks like cheap silver!" Her mother-in-law scoffed.

"I hope you'll wear it tomorrow night; we're still on for Shabbat dinner over here, right?" The brunette confirmed.

"Well, I was actually calling to offer to host for tomorrow night. Your parents are always welcome of course." She shyly offered.

"That's very sweet Sheila, but it'd be unfair of me to ask you to host that many people on such a short notice." Rebecca replied only half sincerely; she did hate cooking after all.

"Nonsense! I can't have you host a dinner of that magnitude when you've been under the weather for so long; I mean with Ayala being sick and all, I understand how you're not feeling your best." Kyle's mother insisted.

"Well, fine. If you insist, we can all come over to your place tomorrow evening." Rebecca replied with a smirk on her face.

"Excellent! I'll take care of letting your parents know. Oh, and if ever you can't make it because you want to rest, it's not a problem; I'll have Kyle bring you leftovers." The red-haired woman proclaimed in her signature nasal voice.

"Thanks, Sheila! I'll see you tomorrow night." She bid before she terminated the phone call.

The weight upon Rebecca's shoulders simply vanished. She hadn't even gone out to buy everything she needed in order to host the dinner, and since it was her turn to do so, she dreaded the fact that she would have had to get up early the next day to go run the errands she had been postponing.

The events that had taken place Monday morning had taken a toll on her ego. She and her husband had barely spoken since the slap, even less than usual. Ayala had been keeping her distance from her and she had been dreading the thought of her parents and her in-laws in her house while the atmosphere was still as cold as ice.

All things considered, Sheila's offer was almost God sent, but yet she wondered – _What did She mean by me being under the weather? Did Kyle tell her? Impossible! He's not that stupid!_

Her carefree moment was cut short when she saw the text message that the blonde had sent her. Her blood froze as she read it. _She knows._ She began to shake and sweat as she slowly realized the severity of the situation she had put herself in.

She ran to the garage where the cases of tainted soft drinks were piled up next to the Prestone gallons. She was going to get rid of them, but where could she put them? The garbage passed once a week on Mondays. She could have poured the content of the bottles one by one down the drain and took the empty bottles to some dumpster on Main Road, but then her husband would wonder where they all went.

She then wondered why the blonde she despised would want to speak with her, and why there wasn't a horde of police cars parked in front of her house. Was it because Flavia needed more proof, or was it because the blonde was set out to torture her? She knew about Adam, and now she knew about the Mountain Dew?

She read the message over one final time before she deleted it and went back to her folding despite the knot stuck in her throat and her eyes trying to retain the tears that were about to fall form them. _It's time to face the music._

* * *

Flavia and Trent had just retrieved their luggage and were about to leave the airport. Their first stop was at a car rental's company. The clerk was trying his very best to push them to go for a Toyota Yaris, but the blonde knew Tiffany had expensive taste. The two of them ended taking an Audi A4 that still smelled somewhat new inside.

Once the car was picked, the clerk ran Trent's ID through the system and told them that although the car was not being charged to the ex-felon, he could not allow him to rent a car unless someone vouched for him and took all responsibility on his behalf while it'd be in his possession.

Flavia was somewhat embarrassed while she signed the paperwork claiming her as custodian for the man she had promised to go on a date with that same night. She shrugged as she scribbled her signature on the paper before the pretentious clerk handed the keys over to the humiliated ex-convict.

"I'm sorry about the way that jerk treated you." Flavia almost whispered as Trent pulled out of the parking lot.

"Don't worry, ma'am Flavia; I'm used to it by now." He tried to reassure.

"It's not fair!" She exclaimed, outraged by the injustice of the system.

"That's why most guys like me end up behind bars multiple times in their life. You try to find honest work; you try to get your life back in order just to be kicked back down again. So you have to become smarter, criminally that is. I just got real good at it; that's why I haven't gotten caught again...yet." He sadly confessed as he was driving towards the interstate.

"You've done your time and you're done doing dirty jobs. The system might have given up on you; society might have given up on you, but I, Flavia Fornari swear to you that I won't give up on you." She solemnly swore as she rested her on the hand he held the shifter with.

A deep burgundy blush rose in the blond man's face. He was glad that he was stopped at a red light because his focus was compromised. Flavia picked up on his behavior and slowly withdrew her hand. The light turned green and Trent began driving again. The two of them remained in silence for a few minutes, the air in the car becoming thicker with each passing second.

"Have you decided?" Flavia finally asked, breaking the unbearable silence.

"Huh?" He wondered.

"About the date!" She reminded him.

"You said we'd stay in Alma tomorrow, right?" He verified, just in case he had misunderstood her initially.

"Yes, but we can go straight there tonight. You call the shots." She simply answered.

Trent smiled; Alma was a mere five-minute drive from South Park and what he had in mind didn't involve what conventional people regarded as first dates.

"Alma it is. I hope you brought some casual clothes and some comfortable shoes." He smirked.

"I have a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. I also brought my cowgirl boots for the visit to the ranch tomorrow." She reassured.

"That should be fine. Let's see... It's almost five thirty, so at this rate, we should be there at seven thirty, just in time for you to call your little friend. While you get comfy in the room, I'll go pick us up some food." He planned out loud.

"That sounds delightful, but could we stop at a liquor here in Denver? I need to pick up some 'equipment' for tomorrow night." She immediately requested since she didn't trust the liquor stores in South Park or Alma.

"I don't mind at all, but I can't guarantee we'll be in Alma in time for your phone call to be punctual." He warned.

"I can call from the car." She sighed. "So, what's for dinner?" She wondered.

"It's a surprise." He replied with a wink.

"OK, fair enough. Why do I need casual clothes and comfortable shoes?" She questioned once more.

"It's a surprise." He almost whispered with a sincere grin.

Flavia raised her left eyebrow. She hated to be kept out of the loop. She dreaded surprises. Her mind began to image scenarios: Would he take her on a romantic walk in nature? Would he take her to that pond her boss always spoke about so that the two of them could stargaze? Would he lure her into the woods and stick a knife to her throat so he could rape her? Would he beat her until she'd lose consciousness once his deed would be done?

She shook her head at the last two thoughts; once again, she was overthinking. It was not in his best interest to do something like that, besides... she didn't view him as a threat, so why was she having these terrible visions? _Tom..._

She had never been able to connect romantically with anyone since she left her husband; the fear that another man might hurt and humiliated her terrorized her, and she knew it. No, Trent was not the problem; her past unhealthy relationship was.

Trent stopped at the last liquor store right before the interstate so that Flavia could go and buy her 'equipment'. She rushed in and came out mere moments later armed with a box. Upon seeing her carrying the box filled with bottles, Trent immediately got out of the car and acted like a gentleman by carrying it to the car for her. She had purchased several wine bottles and two champagne bottles.

The rest of the drive went very smoothly until the time for the call came. According to Trent, they were merely ten minutes away from the bed and breakfast they were going to stay at when the alarm that Flavia had set went off. She quickly shut it off before she dialed Rebecca's number. _The bitch better pick up._

"Hello?" Rebecca answered clearly agitated

"If you're not alone, you are to go to another room. Once you're by yourself, you'll tell me so." The blonde instructed.

"I'm by myself." Her voice quivered.

"Tomorrow night, you'll feign illness and you'll stay home instead of going to your in-laws. Do you understand?" Flavia almost barked into the receiver.

"I understand." Her voice cracked.

"Precisely ten minutes later, I will ring the doorbell and you will answer the door. Do you understand?" She continued in the same authoritarian tone

"I understand." The voice replied almost inaudibly.

"And most importantly, you will not tell a soul about the meeting we'll have tomorrow night, nor this conversation; not your husband; not your family or your friends. Failure to do so will land you in jail for attempted murder. Did I make myself clear?" She firmly ordered.

"Crystal clear." The brunette replied before bursting into tears.

"Excellent. See you tomorrow." She dryly added before she ended the call.

Flavia glanced at Trent and despite the fact the sun was setting and that the light was starting to get scarce, she noticed the man's jaw was dropped and that he was resisting the urge to laugh.

"What?" She abruptly asked, finally prompting him to burst into laughter.

"For quite a small chick, you're quite the hard ass." He claimed in between laughs.

Flavia glared at him and his laughter was immediately halted.

"It's a compliment." He confessed as he took a quick look at her. "We're here by the way." He warned before he parked in front of an absolutely gorgeous rustic log lodge.

* * *

Flavia's stomach was grumbling; after they checked in and they were shown to their room, Trent had left to go pick up some take out. She glanced at the bag of chips that was given as a complementary bedtime snack and she was very tempted to open it, but then again she didn't want to spoil her appetite.

The moment Trent had taken off, she had quickly changed into the plaid shirt and jeans that she had brought along. She took a moment to admire the room; the walls consisted of beautifully varnished round logs, the fireplace was made out of field stones from top to bottom and even the furniture looked as though it was made by first settlers. Out the window, the Jacuzzi seemed quite inviting; too bad she had omitted to bring a bathing suit.

She took a moment to start a fire to make the place even more magical and stared into the flames as they grew larger. The crackling of the wood burning, as well as the smell it produced, brought her comfort until she thought about her poor boss who was all alone.

Without thinking, she pulled out her phone and dialed Eric's number; she felt bad for leaving in such a rush, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Flavia! Are you in South Park yet?" His friendly voice greeted.

"I'm in Alma, but yes I'm up here with Trent." She carelessly replied.

"What? What the hell are you doing up there with an ex-con?" He freaked out.

"Relax! He'll be Tiff's bodyguard once she gets here." She answered after she brought her palm to her face.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" He yelled.

"No, I am not. He's done doing shady work for us; I won't have it anymore. You and I both know he deserves better." She reassured.

"Urgh!" He scoffed as he remembered why Trent had gone to jail in the first place.

"In any case, I just wanted to go over tomorrow schedules with you: your day is relatively light; you have a conference call with the board of directors at ten, then you have a meeting with foreign investors tomorrow at one and finally, you'll have dinner with Mr. Trump in his home at seven. Do not, I repeat do not be late. On my end, I'll see Dr. Mephisto for the results tomorrow morning. Trent will go get Tiff at noon in Denver and our appointment with the decorator is at three and that's it." She enumerated in a straightforward manner.

"Yeah, yeah... same boring shit. By the way, do not open the results until you're back here. I want to be present for that." He sighed.

Flavia heard the door unlock; at last, Trent was back with some food!

"Alright boss, my dinner is here. Gotta go!" She quickly said as she smelled the aroma of Chinese takeout.

She said her goodbyes to her boss before she hung up and threw her phone on the bed.

"Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!" She cried as her mouth watered.

"Someone's hungry!" Trent giggled while he pulled the boxes filled with food from the bags.

"Starving, actually." She exclaimed before she grabbed chopsticks and dug them into the first box she opened. "This is so delicious!" She added with her mouth full of noodles.

"It's good old City Wok! I can't believe it's still the same guy running it." He explained.

Trent was pleasantly surprised by how laid back Flavia actually was. He had expected her to be a snob since she was working for the fat ass, but no. She was genuine; a diamond in the rough. She was perfectly imperfect. After taking a few more bites, Flavia opened one of the bottles of wine she had purchased in Denver and poured them a glass each.

The two seated themselves on the rug in front of the fireplace and talked over dinner; they spoke of everything and nothing. Trent told her stories about when he was still serving time, and Flavia told him about her early days working for Cartman. The two of them ate until they were stuffed and that the bottle was empty to the last drop.

"I couldn't eat another bite." The blonde admitted.

"Neither can I. We should go on our date now." Trent suggested while he was picking up the empty cartons of food.

"Let's go then." She softly mumbled as she reached her hand out to him.

He smiled at her and helped her up the floor. She stumbled a little bit, slightly tipsy from the bottle she had mostly drunk to herself, but the blond caught her as she giggled, embarrassed. She put her cowgirl boots on and followed him to the car.

The scenario she had imagined earlier in the day was only half right; he did take her to Stark's pond for a walk under the full moon. The place was eerily beautiful and despite the terrible scenarios Flavia had imaged mere hours ago, she no longer had any fear of what he might have done to her.

After their walk, Trent took her back to the car and drove to a house a couple of streets away from where Kyle and his family lived and parked in front of it.

"This is where my parents live. Last time we spoke I was fifteen years old... they sort of gave up on me." He sadly admitted.

"I am so sorry! Have you tried to contact them since?" She asked, horrified.

"There's no point; The last time I saw them, my mother told me I was dead to her and my dad glared at me, then he turned his back and I never saw either one of them again." He confessed, trying to hide the fact that tears were rising in his eyes.

Hearing those words made her heart break. Furthermore, there was a fire in her core; a fire that hadn't been present in her for many years. She instinctively unbuckled her seat belt and threw herself at the ex-convict that everyone else forgot about. Her lips locked with his; he was taken by surprise, but he did not fight her.

He scooped her up onto his lap and deepened their kissing, hoping she'd let her tongue dance with his. He was ecstatic when her mouth opened and she began to pant; she tasted like wine and General Tao chicken, a lovely combination.

Meanwhile, thoughts were racing through her mind; it had been so long since she had been touched, and she thirsted for him. In his arms, she was happy and safe. She was tired of holding back; she wanted him to take her and make her see the stars. She wanted to know him.

She pulled herself of off as quickly as she had thrown herself at him.

"Is everything OK?" He asked, worried that he might have rushed things.

"Everything is perfect." She replied with a smile. "Drive back. There's something I want to show you." She instructed him as a devious smile formed on her face.

"What is it?" He asked, perplexed.

"It's a surprise" She muttered as she bit her lower lip.

He smiled as he turned the car on and put it in gear. Five minutes later, they were back at the lodge. Flavia rushed to the washroom the moment they got back. She had been in there for several minutes before Trent began to worry – _Did she drink too much and made herself sick? The blonde_ finally came out of the washroom wearing a terrycloth robe.

"It's your turn. Go get undressed and put on the other robe." She smugly ordered.

Trent blushed and gasped.

"Ma'am, I don't understand-" He began.

"Do as I say." She calmly requested.

Trent complied and was out of the washroom mere moments later. Flavia silently signaled to follow her and led him to the Jacuzzi which she uncovered. Trent loudly swallowed.

"Turn around." She whispered.

Trent complied and heard the sound of the blonde getting into the hot tub. _She's naked._ That thought sent a rush of heat right to his groin. _Oh God, No! Not now!_ He panicked as he felt his member grow bigger and stiffer.

"What are you waiting for?" She called, giggling. "Oh, but before you do, can you please open that bottle?"

Trent slowly turned around and saw that a champagne bottle, as well as two flutes, were sitting on the edge of the tub. _She must have snuck them in these gigantic robe pockets._ Without saying a word he complied, trying to keep his eyes away from the woman he had been dreaming of for years. He poured two glasses and handed one to her.

"I'll close my eyes, just get in." She begged as she grabbed the flute.

 _Stop speaking to me like that – you're not helping._ He dropped his robe to the ground and got into the tub as quickly as he could. As soon as he was in, her eyes flew open and she raised her glass; he grabbed his own glass and did the same.

"To you and your new life that starts tonight." She said before she clinked her glass to his.

Trent immediately swallowed the content of his flute and poured himself another one. Flavia took a sip and then put her glass down to the side. She went right next to Trent and grabbed his glass as well and set that one down too.

Trent's heart was beating so rapidly that he could hear his pulse in his ears. She put her arm around his shoulder and swung herself so she could be on his lap. She felt Trent's 'problem' brush up against her thighs, and paid zero attention to it. Trent felt her supple breasts rub up against his collarbone and fought the urge to look at them. She began to kiss him passionately, and he was more than happy to return the kisses.

"There's just a problem with the room." Flavia murmured after she had gently pulled away from Trent.

He looked at her, perplexed. The room had seemed perfectly fine to him.

"There's only one bed, so you and I will have to share." She whispered in his ear before she lightly sucked on it.

He grunted, grabbed her face and stuck his tongue deep in her mouth as retaliation.

The two of them made out on and off in the hot tub until the champagne was finished, then they clumsily got out of the Jacuzzi, closed it, picked up their empty glasses and the bottle, and rushed back to their room.

The moment the door was closed behind them, Trent swiftly removed Flavia's robe and picked her up in his arms. He laid her on the bed and got on top of her, kissing her some more; he just couldn't get enough of her. He then shifted his mouth to her neck, down to her breast and then made his way to her groin and went to work.

Flavia hissed and moaned. She was on a cloud; the world could have come to an end and she wouldn't have cared. The Universe was now spinning around her; the small electric shocks triggered by Trent's tongue scattered across her body like shooting stars. The shocks got more intense and began to form a ball of energy; with each additional shock, the ball grew bigger and denser until it became a Supernova. A passionate lament left her lips and her toes curled to the point of giving her a cramp. She was out of breath and her vision was blurred, but she wasn't even close to being done with him.

"My turn now." She panted, her voice raspy.

She still had two handfuls of Trent's hair which she pulled on so she could bring his mouth to hers and kiss him. He still tasted like her. She rolled over on top of him and slowly made her way to his rock hard member. The moment Flavia began to tease it with her tongue, Trent's head rolled back and he began to whimper.


	17. The art of the deal part II

Flavia had just gotten off the cab and for the first time in her life, she stood in front of the South Park Genetic Engineering Ranch. The place looked like a fortress: it was gated, the building stood tall and gloomy on top of a hill and the path to reach it was long, uphill and gave off a perilous vibe. _Creepy._ She rang the buzzer on the intercom and was greeted by a low raspy voice mere moments later.

"Who is this?"

"Dr. Mephesto, my name is Flavia Fornari. I work for Eric Cartman; you and I spoke on the phone yesterday."

Without a reply, she heard a loud clunking noise and the gate opened before her. She began to walk up the path; it was muddy, slippery and steep. _Thank God I wore the cowgirl boots instead of the Manolos._ After what seemed like an eternity, she finally reached the stoop. The humongous door creaked as it slowly opened and revealed a frail looking old man accompanied by a disheveled hobbit looking individual.

"Welcome to my Lab. I am Dr. Alphonse Mephesto and this is my assistant Kevin."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. Do you have what I came for?"

"Yes, of course. Kevin, won't you be a dear and go fetch the documents?"

The hobbit dude immediately turned around and disappeared into another room. Once he was out of sight, Mephesto looked up at the blonde and gave her a smirk.

"Now, do you have what you promised me?"

Flavia gracefully smiled and pulled a thick manila envelope from her handbag.

"Fifty thousand dollars cash; no questions asked and you don't speak a word of our little deal to anyone." She nodded as she handed it to him.

The previous day, she had called the genetic engineer to ask him to falsify Adam's DNA test so that Stan Marsh wouldn't be a match to be Adam's father. Her stomach had turned when she placed the call; not only was she meddling behind her boss' back, but after the humiliation she had gone through just to obtain Stan's DNA, she wanted to kick her own ass. She had to keep reminding herself that it was all for the greater good.

A few seconds later, Kevin came back with two envelopes which he handed to the blonde: one to the attention of Flavia Fornari containing the true results, and one to the attention of Eric Cartman which enclosed nothing more than a lie.

She thanked the scientist and his aide before she took her leave. Dr. Mephesto walked her out and informed her to press the button on the gate to open it from the inside of the property so that she could walk out. Her cab was still waiting for her behind the gate. She instructed the driver to take her back to the Bed & Breakfast.

During the short ride, she opened the envelope addressed to her and lo and behold, it confirmed what she had heard Rebecca say in Hawaii; Stan Marsh was in fact Adam's father. She hadn't decided whether she should've sat on the evidence and stored it in her safe, or if she should've burned it and erased it forever.

The moment she got back to her room, she immediately hid both documents at the bottom of her suitcase. She glanced at the time and realized that she had a two whole hours before Trent and Tiffany were due to arrive.

After a long sigh, she laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling; if Cartman ever found out what she was truly doing in South Park, he'd want her head on a silver platter. Her relationship with her boss had always been defined by transparency and they saw eye to eye on nearly everything, but she was afraid this was something he couldn't have understood.

She had wanted Rebecca to rot in a jail cell so badly, but at what price? That of a toddler losing his entire family over night? That was not an acceptable solution.

She rolled over to her side and buried her head in Trent's pillow; at least his scent was comforting, so comforting in fact that she drifted almost immediately into sleep.

" _Mommy! Mommy! I'm so happy you're back home!" Ayala cheers as she runs towards me and hugs me so tight that she squeezes the breath right out of me._

" _I was just at work, sweetie. You sound like you haven't seen me in ages."_

" _She just loves you that much." Kyle tenderly tells me._

" _You should know that by now." Eric adds before resting his hand on Kyle's shoulder._

 _We all laugh together as we make our way to the living room. The child lies on the carpet with a book and casually reads while the grownups begin to chat about the events that transpired that day: Kyle won his big case; Eric signed his big contract and I – I just can't seem to remember what I have done._

 _What have I accomplished? What have I ever succeeded at that was meaningful? I simply don't recall._

" _Five minutes 'till dinner's ready!" Trent announces as he walks in the living room and smirks._

 _The lights start to flicker. What's wrong with the lights? I look up to see if the bulb needs to be replaced and when I look back down, everyone is gone… yet, I feel a presence. HIS presence._

" _You thought you could just run away from me and start a new life? YOU BELONG TO ME!" A voice shouts from behind the entrance._

 _I know that voice; it's him. Oh God! Tom found me!_

 _I turn around to find a hiding place and I can't help myself. I scream. The sight is just too much to bear! They're all dead! All my loved ones are dead in a sea of blood._

 _He did this!_

" _This time, you won't get away from me." Tom whispers in my ear causing me to scream._

 _I feel it! I feel it against my neck! His hunting knife…_

She quickly rose up from the bed in a gasp. She was breathing rapidly and her heartbeat was through the roof. Beads of cold sweat had formed on her forehead. She glanced around the room and was relieved when Thomas was nowhere in sight. Slowly but surely, reality began to sink in; it was nothing but a horrible nightmare.

She looked in the mirror and saw how dishevelled she was and as she was fixing the hot mess that was her hair, she heard the door open. Tiffany emerged from the corner of the room, immediately followed by Trent. He was carrying bags with some lunch for the three of them. Tiffany set her stuff down next to the door connecting Flavia's room to hers.

"Tiffany! What a pleasure to see you!" She greeted her with open arms despite her recent agitation

"The pleasure is mine! I prepared the paperwork you have asked for."

"Excellent! I can't thank you enough for this favor. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Look, I understand that Kyle is Eric's dearest friend. The fact that you want to help out his wife is admirable."

Flavia smiled before she turned to Trent; by the suit he was wearing, no one would have ever guessed that he spent all his youth behind bars. She found him quite handsome to say the least. After the night they spent together, she was beginning to feel smitten every time he was near her. She had no regrets regarding the intimacy she and Trent had shared, but her heart ached when she thought of the day she'd need to have the _talk_ with him.

"Alright then, how about the three of us grab a bite before we head to the Ranch?" Flavia cheerfully suggested.

"Excellent idea, boss." Trent teased as he began to pull the food boxes out of the bags.

* * *

Following his assistant's instructions, Eric showed up at Trump Tower at ten to seven; there was no way on Earth he could afford to be late to that dinner. He was shown to Mr. Trump's luxurious dining room by the butler who politely offered him a drink. Eric asked for a dry martini, which the man stirred for him immediately.

"I will let Mr. Trump know of your arrival. Make yourself at home." The man gracefully offered as he handed Cartman his martini.

The brunet sat down the moment the butler disappeared behind the door. His palms were sweating and his hand was shaking ever so slightly. As a business man, it wasn't unusual for him to get a little agitated before an important meeting, but this was different; he was about to ask Donald Trump for his daughter's hand as well as his help and support to become the next president of the United States of America.

"Mr. Cartman!" Trump roared, startling Eric and nearly causing him to spit out his drink.

"Mr. Trump! Please call me Eric." He responded after getting up from his seat and briefly clearing his throat. "I can't thank you enough for your invitation." He then added, prompting the forty-fifth president of the United States to chuckle.

"Drop the formalities and let's cut to the chase, Eric." He exclaimed before reaching for a liquor bottle and pouring himself a glass of what was most likely fine Scotch. "You know why I invited you here, right?"

"I am not sure as to your motives, but I have something to ask of you as well." The younger businessman quickly retorted.

"I assume it has to do with my daughter Tiffany, am I mistaken?" He correctly guessed as he took a seat and signaled to his guest to do the same. "You have my blessing!" He smiled at the flabbergasted brunet.

"I beg your pardon?" He barely managed to mumble, unsure that he had understood correctly.

"You can go ahead and ask for her hand!" He loudly roared as he extended his glass to clink it to Eric's. "You guys have been together almost six months, and boy let me tell you that I love the influence you've had on her: she no longer parties with those spoiled losers; she passed the Bar for three different states and she is working hard to make it to partners in her current firm."

The orange billionaire paused and narrowed his eyes on Eric's; it was obvious that the young businessman was taken aback by the fact that Trump literally read his mind.

"She's even talking about starting her own firm, can you believe that?" He finally added with a giggle.

Before Eric could respond, the butler came in followed by an older woman in a maid's outfit. The two staffers were carrying plates containing various entrees: escargots, caprese salad, melon slices wrapped in prosciutto to name a few. The butler then opened a fancy bottle of red wine and poured a glass for each man before asking Cartman how he wanted his steak cooked. He then exited the room with the maid and leaving the two billionaires to some privacy.

"Tiff is very special to me. Although I already purchased the ring, I was going to ask for your blessing-"He lied.

"Way ahead of you son!" Trump rudely interrupted with his mouth full. "Joining our families is a smart move to make!" He continued once he swallowed.

"Of course." He smirked.

As they ate the entrees, Eric informed his future father-in-law that he was planning to propose at the very first Ayala Foundation charity gala. Despite the fact that his daughter was going to be the bride, Trump strongly encouraged Eric to make her sign a prenuptial agreement; a wise move, he claimed. Tiffany was going to inherit part of her father's fortune anyways; it wasn't like she was going to be left penniless on the street.

The butler and maid came back in once more to bring the main course which consisted of a large steak with all the trimmings. As Eric cut his meat right down the middle, he looked up at Trump and decided that it was time to discuss what he truly wanted out of his marriage to Tiffany.

"Mr. Trump-"He began.

"Donald! I told you to drop the formalities; we'll be family soon anyways." He interrupted as he dipped his morsel of steak in a sea of ketchup.

"Donald, there's something else I'd like to ask of you."

The older billionaire sternly looked at the younger man and swallowed his bite. Eric knew that look; the man didn't like unnecessary sugar-coating. He was direct and straight to the point, just like him.

"I want to run for president in a few years, and once our families are officially joined, I need to know that I'll have your full support and cooperation to win the presidency." He bluntly asked, his eyes as stern as the older man.

A smile gradually rose on his lips and Cartman was unsure as to how he was supposed to interpret it. Was he going to retract his blessing because he found his request too opportunistic? Or did he like the idea? He felt a hint of panic when the older man got up and held his tie with his left hand, but that panic turned into delight when he extended his right hand to shake on it. As they firmly shook hands, Trump let a satisfied chuckle that roared across the room.

"You have some balls, son. I like you and I will bend over backwards to insure you get the oval. Tiff would make a magnificent First Lady." He declared as he sat back down.

Eric thanked him for his support and the two of them continued their meals and spoke of Trump's controversial past presidency. Although bored by his stories of the oval office, Cartman carefully listened and nodded at his soon to be father-in-law's words.

Once the two of them finished their meals and drank some Scotch together, the brunet thanked the older businessman for his time and had his car called. One the way home, he grinned from ear to ear over the surprising turn that the evening took.

Everything went much better than he expected and he couldn't wait to call up Flavia and let her know the good news. _She must be bored out of her mind in that shitty little mountain town._

* * *

"Everyone remembers the plan?" Flavia asked her two acolytes.

Both Trent and Tiffany proudly nodded. They had parked the Audi four houses away from the Broflovski's residence and they were patiently waiting to see Kyle's car pull out of the driveway to begin the ten minute countdown.

"I just have a question; why must you wait ten minutes before you go knock on the door?" Tiffany asked, genuinely curious.

"Simply for the fact that it's the average time it takes for a person to turn around and come back in case they forget something." Trent snickered.

"Oh! I never thought of that before! It makes a lot of sense, I suppose."

Flavia was glad Tiffany didn't ask how Trent knew that; she had no clue herself and he was the one that advised her to it while they were on their flight to Denver. He called it the greatest trick of the trade. He had probably done that on several occasion since he was released.

"There he goes!" Flavia exclaimed as she watched Kyle's luxury car back out of the driveway. "Count down starts now!" She smiled. As she set the timer on her phone. "Trent, once I'm in the house with Mrs. Broflovski, I want you to take Miss Trump to a close by restaurant." She then instructed.

"But I'm supposed to be representing her!" Tiffany immediately interjected.

"You are representing her Tiff, I just need to speak with her and her alone for a bit. An hour, maybe two. I'll call you once we're done so you can come in." She calmly explained. "Oh, also don't let Tiff out of your sight. If she goes to the washroom-"She began, shifting her attention to Trent.

"I wait for her at the door and force her to lock herself in alone. I know the drill." He sighed.

Before they knew it, the ten minutes were up. Trent drove up to the front of the Broflovski residence. Flavia grabbed a bag that contained two bottles of red wine as well as her handbag and made her way to the door. She was about to ring the doorbell when the door gently opened, revealing a very distressed Rebecca.

Her brown hair was tied up in a lazy bun; her face was puffy and her eyes were red. The woman had clearly been crying. In silence, the brunette moved out of the blonde's way thus allowing her to enter her home.

"Mrs. Broflovksi, you and I need to have a chat." She said as she let herself in and removed her red overcoat.

"What do you want?" She spat in a hateful tone.

"I ask the questions here!" She firmly demanded, raising her tone and causing Rebecca to flinch.

"I ask the questions; you answer me. But before we begin, I need you to get two wine glasses and a bottle opener." She continued, regaining her composure.

Rebecca nodded and swiftly provided what was being asked of her. Meanwhile, Flavia sat on the couch and pulled out one of the two bottles she had purchased. She took the opener from the brunette and poured two glasses of wine. She handed one to Mrs. Broflovski who promptly refused it.

"Don't worry; I don't poison drinks, no matter how tempted I may get." She dryly snapped, forcing Rebecca to accept the beverage she was being handed.

Flavia took a sip from the glass and when Rebecca didn't, she glared at her until she reluctantly took the glass to her lips and drank some from it despite her shaking hand.

"Why?"

The brunette looked at the blonde, not quite understanding what she wanted from her. Flavia loudly sighed.

"Why did you try to kill your daughter?" She asked, this time being more specific and more authoritarian.

Rebecca set the glass down on the table as she began to weep.

"I don't know, OK? I was just so livid after you came here to talk about the foundation. I was furious at the fact that you took her and my husband to New York with you. I just can't get over the fact that she prefers you to me." She explained in between sobs.

"And then, there's the fact that she idolizes her father no matter how drunk he gets. She took his side after that ass hole slapped me! Can you believe it?" She added with a hint of rage in her voice.

Flavia remained silent and composed, glaring at the pathetic woman in front of her.

"After everything I've sacrificed for this family; after everything I gave up to have this family, he still treats me like a doormat!"

The blonde took another sip from her glass of wine while the brunette buried her face in her hands.

"Have you ever considered divorcing?"

Rebecca looked up, terror apparent of her pale face.

"Are you crazy? My parents would never let me hear the end of it! The Cotswold fight and adapt! Divorce is out of the question! The mere thought is so embarrassing!" She rapidly breathed.

"What would they think if they found out about who Adam's father truly is? How would they react if they found out you were slowly poisoning your child? Their grandchild?" The blonde bitterly asked.

Rebecca grabbed the glass of wine she had set aside and gulped it down until there was nothing left before she burst into tears once more. Without showing a hint of compassion, Flavia refilled her glass and slid it back to her once it was full. Without warning, the brunette burst into laughter as tears streamed down her face.

"I was a neurosurgeon; top of my class with a brilliant future ahead of me and then, Kyle had to pop out of nowhere and shit all over it!" She screeched, delirious. "My parents loved him; a good boy, from a respectable family. And a lawyer, let's not forget about that! He was the perfect groom for their daughter. They were thrilled when he proposed."

Rebecca was a pitiful sight to say the least, and although the blonde was unable to forgive what she had done to Ayala, she couldn't resist the urge to get up and hug her. To her surprise, the brunette began to cling to her.

"You can't stay in this relationship; it'll kill you both." She whispered in her ear.

"I know. I've never told anyone; everyone thinks we're a perfect family with perfect lives."

"Tell me everything." Flavia said before she took a seat next to her.

In between sobs, Rebecca proceeded to explain how her marriage went south right after the wedding; how Kyle neglected her and treated her like she was filth. She told her about how she thought that by having a child, Kyle would realize how important his family was and that was why they had Ayala.

"He could barely get it up; it took us a year before I became pregnant."

She recalled how for the first few months, her husband was in awe of his baby girl. Ayala was his pride and joy and for a while, she thought they'd be OK. She confessed that after they returned to South Park, everything got worse and Kyle spiralled down into oblivion.

"And then there was Stan; he made me feel alive again." She smiled as she uttered those words. "It was perfect; he was married and so was I. It was very simple between us."

She spared her the details of her affair with her husband's former best friend, but she made make it clear that Stan was the love of her life.

"I like to think that maybe, in another life… a boy like him and a girl like me could have met and been happy together."

Flavia had to supress her urge to throw up as she thought of her last encounter with the raven haired man Rebecca was talking about.

"I could cope with Kyle's destructive habits and lack of interest, I could manage raising my two children mostly on my own…" She began softly before her voice turned as bitter as poison.

"But then you came along. The childless woman who dared to tell me how to treat and raise my own daughter. You've known her what, five minutes? And you already spoiled her so much that she reveres you and despises me!"

Flavia took the berating without flinching as she casually sipped her wine.

"The thing that frustrates me the most is that while I am miserable and trapped over here, you are as free as a bird." Rebecca ended up admitting.

"I can help you free yourself."

The brunette roared with laughter. Her rapid mood swings were terrifying; she seemed as mad as a hatter, but Flavia didn't allow herself to be intimidated.

"Divorce your husband! You keep Adam, and he leaves with Ayala. I'm in touch with a brilliant lawyer. I can get you to keep the house and if we're lucky, I could also get you some money from Kyle's firm."

Rebecca glared at her with disdain as she laid down her offer.

"Think about it! You'd be free to meet another man; a man that will be right for you and that'll treat you like a queen."

The brunette's lip began to tremble as more tears fell from her eyes. She thought of how her family would react to the divorce; perhaps would they be supportive if she told them about the slap and the living hell she had tolerated for a decade?

"What if I don't want your help?"

Flavia sighed as she pulled two envelopes from her purse.

"That would be unwise. If you don't let me help you, I'll obliterate you." She handed the documents to a nervous Rebecca.

"More dirt on me?" Rebecca asked as she snatched the documents from her hands.

"Those are your son's DNA test results proving that Stan Marsh is his biological father and Ayala's blood work which tested positive to prestone poisoning."

As she heard those words and looked at the documents, Rebecca turned pale. She was holding irrefutable evidence of her terrible doings.

"You can divorce Kyle and let him take Ayala to live with him. You'll get to keep your house and your son. I will destroy the evidence and you get to keep your reputation intact and start a new life. Either that, or the blood work gets handed to the police and the DNA results will be sent to your husband. You'll land in jail and Kyle will most likely divorce you over this anyway, your good reputation will vanish and your son, well…" Flavia snickered at the end of her sentence.

"What about my son?" She yelled at the top of her lungs.

"Who knows? He's not Kyle's son, so he would have no obligation towards Adam, and I doubt Mrs. Marsh will take kindly to raising her husband's illegitimate child. I guess he'll end up in foster care, but hey! It's better than asking for the divorce, isn't it?" The blonde drawled as she defiantly looked Rebecca in the eye.

For a few moments, Rebecca stared blankly ahead of her; her ears were ringing in a deafening manner and she was slowly realizing she was losing this battle. The battle yes, but not necessarily the war.

She did know about Flavia's estranged husband and after she saw her financial statements, she was willing to bet that he'd be more than interested into getting his hands on half of her assets since they were acquired while they were still legally married.

As tempted as she was to threaten the blonde, she decided against it; it would be a lot more fitting if he paid her a surprise visit and sued her arrogant ass to the ground.

"So what will it be, Ms. Cotswold?" The blonde asked in a mocking tone.

Rebecca snapped out of her thought and gulped down her remaining wine before turning to Flavia. She smiled at her.

"I will accept your help." She calmly uttered.

"I knew you could be reasonable." She smiled triumphantly as she pulled out her phone and dialed for Trent. "You can bring Miss Trump to the Broflovski residence. Once she's safely inside, I need you to buy us more time."

"Miss Trump?"

"Why yes; she'll be representing you. She has already drafted a rough copy of the divorce papers, but she'll amend them if necessary. Oh, and before I forget, you are to serve him the papers first thing Sunday morning and you'll ask him to leave on the same day. Demand that he moves out of South Park as soon as possible. Understood?"

Rebecca nodded as more tears streamed down her cheeks.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Tiffany arrived with the first draft of the papers. Despite her previous humiliation, Rebecca fully cooperated and had very strict demands as to what she wanted: She wanted to get the house, her car, Adam's full custody, a guaranteed income from Kyle's firm for the rest of her life and, of course, visitation rights so that Ayala could see her brother for a full month during the summer.

* * *

On Sunday mornings, Eric usually enjoyed lounging around in bed. He`d usually read or browse social media and news on his phone. _Lazy Sundays_ he called them. But that day, he was up early. His assistant and girlfriend had flown back from Colorado the night before and Tiffany was still sleeping, so instead of relaxing next to her, he chose to get up.

He hadn't slept particularly well either; as soon as Flavia and Tiffany arrived, he demanded to see his assistant in private. He told her in detail how his dinner with Mr. Trump turned out and the orange man was on board with their plan. His shock came once Flavia handed him the DNA test results which certified that Kyle was in fact Adam's father.

He was sipping his coffee and watching the local news when he received a phone call from the object of his affection.

"Cartman!" Kyle exclaimed the moment Eric picked up.

"What's wrong, Khal?"

"It's Rebecca… Cartman, I can't believe it!"

"What did she do now?" He asked, worried of what that might have been.

"She just handed me divorce papers! She wants me out of the house by the end of the day and she wants me to leave South Park as soon as possible." He actually sounded relieved.

"What? How can you sound so calm right now? What about the kids?" Eric panicked.

"No! It's the best part! She wants me to take Ayala with me and keep Adam with her! At last! I am free! Goodbye bitch! Goodbye shithole!" He literally beamed with joy.

"This is fantastic news!" The businessman roared.

"I'm packing a few things and then I'll be staying with my parents until the firm is transferred over to my brother. Once it's done, I'll have to figure out where to go."

"Take the first flight to New York! You saw the size of my penthouse; you'll get your own room and so will Ayala." Eric immediately offered.

"That's very generous of you, but I don't want to be a bother. Besides, I have to secure a job."

"None sense! You'd never bother me. As for a job, I may have something for you!"

"Are you serious?" The redhead asked incredulous at how easy and convenient the whole situation turned out to be.

"I'm dead serious! I'll even have Flavia make arrangements for Ayala's school enrollment."

"It's settled then! I can't believe I'll be living with you!"

"Take care of what you must and let me know when you'll be flying in."

"I will. Oh, and Cartman?"

"Yes?"

"I love you so much!" He passionately declared.

"I love you too Khal."

The men said their goodbyes and hung up. Cartman was so happy that he jumped to his feet and burst into dance. He was laughing and crying at the same time; that past decade of constant suffering was finally over. He was finally going to have it all.

He was so caught up in the moment that he nearly had a heart attack when he heard his assistant's voice coming from behind him.

"Someone is in a good mood!" She exclaimed with a grin on her lips.

Startled, Cartman let go of a high pitch shriek, sounding like a mouse.

"Jesus fuck, Flavia! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

The blonde burst into laughter.

"What's the celebratory dance for?"

"You'll never believe the incredible news I just got!"

The two of them sat on the sofa and Eric told Flavia everything; Flavia acted naturally surprised and rose no suspicion of foul play whatsoever. Eric was none the wiser; he had no idea that his assistant had orchestrated that whole plan.

* * *

Author's note: One more chapter left before the end of the story. I have a sequel planned for this with more drama... A LOT more drama! I just wanted to thank each and every one of you for your kind words of support. I truly hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have had writing it. Please don't forget to review and to let me know what you think.


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